


A Caricature of the Void

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Azkaban, BDSM, Biting, Black Family, Blood, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Bottom Draco, Broken Draco Malfoy, Choking, Corrupt Ministry, Dark Fantasy, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Dom Harry Potter, Draco loves Harry, Dry Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Face Slapping, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fuckbuddies, Godfather Sirius Black, Guitars, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry loves torturing, Hate Sex, Heavy BDSM, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Humiliation, Knives, Love/Hate, M/M, Masochism, Masochist draco, Ministry of Magic, Muggle Culture, Muggle Technology, Paddling, Painful Sex, Pianos, Public Sex, Punching, Queen - Freeform, Rape Fantasy, Resurrection Stone, Rock Bands, Rock and Roll, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Sadism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smitten Draco Malfoy, Soul Bond, Sub Draco Malfoy, The Golden Trio, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Top Harry, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping, a negative kind, and cuddles teddy bears, and game of thrones, basically fucked up shit, draco and hermione friendship, draco malfoy is a slut for pain, draco watches batman, hermione and harry listen to rock bands, holding cells, kicking, muggle bands, sadist Harry, there is cute stuff too, they are both kind of fucked up, use of knives on skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When circumstances lead Draco to live under the supervision of his arch nemesis, he is forced to see a lot more than he would ever want to.  Harry Potter is turning into something from his darkest wet dreams urging him to leave behind the little he has, to become his little plaything and Draco finds it all too alluring to refuse.But when Harry hands his fate gift-wrapped to a pretty monster fashioned in the most convincing dressing of a friend, Draco can’t help his suspicions, he doesn’t want him to. Time to time, he scrapes at the mask, reveals a little of himself and the game he is playing.Draco envies him for Harry’s affection that he gets , he has taken over all that Draco ever had, yet, there is a grey land that he stands on, something about his clever little acts is so truly genuine, it is playing with Draco’s judgment.Where this new monster’s lead will take them, whether he will ever be more than Harry’s coping mechanism , will he be alive at the end of this ugly game, he only has his guesses.





	1. The mask of Misery

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not the Harry Potter franchise and do not earn any profit from this fan fiction, all the characters and settings belong to J.K Rowling although I would have loved to come up with them first.
> 
> A/N: The first chapter serves to set the scene so that an atmosphere can be known and the story line that follow makes sense yet if you are only here for Draco/Harry and not the plot, please skip to chapter 2. (I dare you, DON'T)
> 
> Edit: I have made changes in the title and summery to something that fit better.  
> Edit: (Again...eek) I can't decide a goddamn title.

The sliding of the door momentarily drove the attention of Harry and Hermione. As Ron dully acknowledged the two, their faces fell with disinterest at the new presence. Ron made his way to the empty seat earning the suspicion of Crook-shanks before she dosed off due to Hermione petting her.

The sharp sound of the selling cart could be heard approaching. It's high pitch almost causing Harry to flinch and hiss.

"Anything from the trolley?" The old woman asked them, her expression frozen as the extraordinarily neutral as Harry had always remembered.

He nodded and the woman once again began pushing the trolley, it's bell once again ruining the peculiar silence of the train. He had not considered asking others if they had wanted a snack but they did not seem to object. Even Ron hadn't been excited at the brightly emblazoned sweets he would usually love to devour.

Harry sighed. He had desperately wanted to spend a normal year at Hogwarts without creatures and death eaters and consecutive missions of saving the world. With Voldemort dead, he could finally look forward to one, though it seemed that the mist of dread had cleared leaving only an emptiness behind.

The train stopped an everyone departed at Hogwarts gathering into the great hall. The first years were bunched together murmuring either about the houses they desired to be in or of course regarding Harry Potter, the celebrity that sat among them. They were curious an nervous as any first years had ever been but other than them there was little that didn't feel different from the previous years.

A certain raven-haired teacher whose faced failed to give any expression was not glaring at them. A quick glance across the room confirmed that a number of familiar faces were absent. Harry disregarded the obvious reality of why they were missing. Instead he began to foresee how the year would go without Dumbledore, he found himself equally reluctant to think about it. Thankfully, the entrance of George Weasely snapped him out of his thoughts.

He eyed Genera from the corner of his eyes then advanced at George embracing him in the most brotherly manner. The purpose of the gesture was their shared grief over everything that had happened and specifically the deceased Weasely. Harry escorted him to two empty seats on the Gryffindor table. He risked a glance at the Weasely girl finding her left with Seamus and Neville. She did not look back though and seemed that was purposely not doing so.

Harry had not been able to attract with her in the sense of _lovers?_ again. He did not even remember growing close to her and perhaps neither did she. She had sensed it too, the absence of what they previously felt and like Harry, she had not addressed it yet. Perhaps now that their brains had more to process than an ongoing war, the romantic bubble in between them simply popped.

Besides leaving George alone brought back the realizations of what had occurred, he did not want that.

He looked up at the golden peninsula where Dumbledore previously delivered his speeches and found Minerva McGonagall approaching it. She too wore the same mask of blankness that had become a common sight in the hall.

She began her speech with the 'tragic incident' that had taken place in their school probably finding it inappropriate to neglect it. She made a few humble remarks regarding those who had lost their lives. She also made an attempt at cheering the student body up but finding uselessness in the formal and coaxing words. She skipped to congratulating the first years for making it the school for magic and ended with mimicking Dumbledore's 'wish you a spectacular year at Hogwarts—she instantly repented.

Once the sorting began, the number of Gryffindor-s and Hufflepuffs had visibly increased. Ravenclaws had received the same number of students it annually did and the Slytherin table almost remained unchanged. No one made comments but it was established that situations were going to be different with the particular house this year.

None of the newcomers appeared to hold a pride about being sorted into the house of the former supporters of the dark lord. Their act of changing allegiances simply for personal benefits had impacted the view of people over the Slytherin. Considering also, that their former leader had lost the war, they were branded as cowards.

Blood purity too had become known as Voldemort's cause hence the people had strictly formed opinions against looking up to it and had begun to detest the names of the high society. Funny enough, either were associated with the house of the snake symbol.

The most active reason to not prefer being in it however, was the marked death eater that had rejoined the school. Draco Malfoy, being born to the dark lord's right hand, making an attempt at assassinating Dumbledore, carrying a dark mark on his arm and being a racist, it had all given reasons for a strong contempt to be developed against him.

The blonde briefly crossed Harry's mind. He located him easily sitting alone at the end of the Slytherin table near the exit of the hall. He stared mindlessly up at the head mistress ignoring the constant glares he was getting. Harry had heard a little of the manor and fortune being confiscated and trials at the ministry held against him. Narcissa Malfoy had escaped Britain with Fenrir Greyback and was being searched for, Luscious was sentenced a lifetime in Azkaban.

After the ministry had been restored and all the supporters of the dark lord had been removed from their positions, they had turned against all high society names, the house Malfoy in particular because their heir's uselessness to the dark lord had proven him innocent 'technically'. They had giving the remaining Malfoy all kinds of trouble but for Harry to bring himself to worry, Harry found his 'hero complex' disappeared.

Food was served on the table by the usual means of magic. Harry desperately wanted to ignore how his area on the table was covered with a larger variety of foods. Ron decided on settling with a modest amount on his plate, Hermione stabbed a slice of ham with a force and Harry refused to eat at all.

He could feel pairs of admiring eyes set on him, coming from all table including Slytherin. He avoided them all turning to his side. He was met with Luna's gaze who smiled at him. Harry returned it instinctively.

His attention was diverted by George's elbow poking at his rib. "Eat mate, you don't want to go to the dormitory with all this food left untouched." He punctuated his suggestion with a smile—a brief curve of lips discreetly fading into despair.

Harry caught it though, He thrust a chocolate muffin into his mouth, bit it and dropped it onto his plate.

They were finally allowed to leave. The teachers grouped the students and walked them to their dormitories. (Both Slytherin and Gryffindor were appointed new house heads)

The next day, before leaving with Hermione for Charms classes, Harry was met with a crowd of first years, all exited, they were followed by hesitant looking Slytherin kids who were not certain if they should've joined. He quickly assured them that he did not hold a prejudice and were as welcomed to greet him as others. This delighted them and added further to Harry's heroic persona.

The young snakes were still cunning and clever, yet clear of conscience. Harry could see why. Their discretion had sharpened knowing Voldemort as the utmost evil and therefore, him, his counterpart, an idol to follow.

Harry sighed as they left. No one was getting over the war any time sooner. All the faces looked agonized yet no one dared to confront the war. In the following days, Quiditch practices were dropped as no one had the same enthusiasm, the trip to Hogsmeade had also been delayed.

Harry noticed that Peeves only sneered at the students now but caused no mayhem. Filch had discarded his scowl and did little but mopping the floors. With a horror and almost glumness, he realized that Mrs. Norris was not ever seen wondering about the corridors.


	2. "I must not be late to potions"

The schedule had not changed so Monday meant potions with Slytherins, two lessons no less. This was not very loathsome however as, the Slytherins despite taking time to fight off their ego and come asking forgiveness from Harry and had taken a different approach towards him and the Gryffindors in general.

The likes of Blaize Zabini and Pansy Parkinson had specially brought themselves into the attention of not just Harry and but the trio. Beginning from providing them with unasked help for the cleaning up of the potions to retrieving and placing back equipment to saving them seats that allowed the three to sit together as well as near the two Slytherin. Smiles and pleasantries were also exchanged.

They had also been the farthest to sit from Malfoy and seemed to have develop a strong contempt for him. Even if they avoided him like anything, they weren’t hesitant to pass foul remarks regarding him or thrusting him out of the way when the need arose. Hermione, Ron and Harry had noticed the change in their behavior but they decided on not discussing it.

As for Malfoy, he had settled for sending ugly glares in directions of anyone who was blunt enough to throw insults in his face. Otherwise, he kept to himself. It was wise enough, ministry hunted for a chance to place him in Azkaban and he had made it out of the holding cell with enough difficulty. Harry had forgotten about him and could continue with that gladly if it hadn’t been for this day.

Harry and Ron were both late for potions. At the sight of them, Professor Slughorn only gestured them to take seats and resumed his lecture regarding the faux floo’s brewing before it was turned into powder. Professor might have been soft on students but he did not tolerate lateness unless it wasn’t Ron or Harry because, to put it bluntly, they had saved the world.

When they entered today however, they wished they had not and were sent out with detentions instead. All the desks were occupied other than two. Hermione was staring at them from next to Pansy. What hazardously dark means of magic Pansy had used on the nerdy witch to bring her in that position, Harry would have pondered if it wasn’t for his own despicable situation.

The only seats left in the middle row’s end were with Blaize Zabini who had most likely intentionally saved a place for Harry and with Draco Malfoy who no one fancied sitting with. Harry and Ron exchanged looks and then practically leapt at Blaize.

Ron making better use of his senses went from the right side and was rewarded with the empty seat. Harry’s strategy, if he had had any was probably jumping across Blaize and onto the seat. With the spot taken now, Harry had ended up on Blaize’s lap.

The entire classroom broke into a laughter other than Malfoy who was void of any expression and Hermione who pressed onto her eyes with a thumb and index finger. Blaize himself was suppressing a grin.  
   

   “Blimey Ron” Harry muttered getting up and walking over to the desk behind Blaize. He was yet too embarrassed to worry but Malfoy had tensed and was rapidly scribbling whatever the Professor had begun to say before making a lighthearted remark on Harry’s clumsiness.

Harry too grabbed a parchment from Malfoy’s table and fished a quill form his robe pocket. Then he stopped, biting his lips, he realized what he had done. He looked up from the cream colored sheet. Malfoy was looking at him with bulged grey eyes. Harry looked away. He had stopped bothering to bring his school supplies for they were offered to him by the students every day. He hated all the attention he was given lately, but the privileges that came with it were good to resist.

He didn’t however believe that Malfoy would willingly give him a similar treatment. He considered returning the parchment but opposed the thought. Malfoy had acted out of himself and not snatched back his possession , placing it on his table would be awkward and handing it over required interaction. He began to note leaving Malfoy to accept the gesture as normal and stop gawking him.

   “So Ronald” Blaize said placing his quill away. Harry to stopped and began to listen. He actually understood now why he had chosen a seat in the back. He had planned a conversation with Harry that would easily be inaudible from their location. “Do you know, the Durmstang will be up against us in Quiditch in the upcoming months?”

   “I prefer Ron please.” He began in an uncertain tone. “Didn’t know really, they hardly bring up Quiditch now. Which house is playing for Hogwarts? Is that going to be decided by within school battles?”

His curiosity got the better of him over being addressed by someone who was supposed to be an enemy.  
   

   “I hear they will assess the players of all houses. You know, you actually qualify for a fine keeper, you have high chances of ending up in Hogwarts team if I am anything good of a judge.”

   “Thank you…Do you intend on getting a chaser’s position, in the Hogwarts team I mean?”

   “Most definitely”

   “I can’t be sure of myself but if you end up on the team, you will certainly be beside Ginny, I can guarantee she is getting the position secured.”

   “I agree, her tactics are very sophisticated. I believe she can lead well too.” He said. “Hey Harry”

   “Yes?” He blurted at the use of his first name.

   “You will be our seeker then, right?”

   “I can’t decide that for myself but I would wish to be”

   “You know you will Harry, we are all sure” 

    “Thanks”

If it was a compliment or a reference to the special treatment he was getting, he couldn’t say but he agreed either way. They had shifted to making guesses regarding what players Durmstrang would appoint and what who would on which position.

Pansy and Hermione too had indulged in a conversation where Hermione was holding up a book and speaking endlessly about a studies related question that Pansy had asked. Blaize too had picked a topic that was ought to draw Ron’s attention. He must have had something else on his mind maybe because the seat was meant to be Harry’s but he had handled it well enough.  
‘Such Slytherin' Harry thought.

As much as it seemed that they had genuinely wanted a friendship, these Slytherin, they had gotten him stuck with Malfoy which was not a joy. Not only due to the blonde himself but the attention the scene of a death eater sitting with the savior was driving. And now specially when their rivalry was more serious than a childish feud. Malfoy's attitude had to be gone because no one tolerated him but that did not change what he was like or what he had done.

   “I think Viktor will be the seeker for Durmstrang. Beat him Harry, I don’t like him a lot”

Ron said.

   “Positions aren’t decided yet Ron and it is not like I owe you that but rust you can rest assured” He could not help the smugness in his voice.

Suddenly everyone began to stand up and move to the storeroom. They were asked to get cauldrons, olibanum, octopus powder and a Runepoor Fang each, as well as some other equipment. They were brewing the liquid Faux floo, professor Slughorn had lectured about. With proper measurements and the intensification of it’s thinness, it could work as a fine substitute and transport people without giving them burns.

This lot they had come to know by peering over Malfoy’s note that he had been kind (or helpless) enough to not move away. He had not even gotten up considering his partner sat there dumb. Everyone else were gone.  
   

   “Malfoy has notes” It slipped from Ron. Malfoy still let the parchment sit. Situations became awkward pretty quickly. Slughorn was watching them and Malfoy whose response was required did not speak at all.  
He had not obediently passed them the sheets so they could not accuse him for an imposter but the Un-malfoyish- attitude was irking Harry. He almost wished that he had said something snarky or insulted them for not taking notes. At least then they would know how to communicate and make some progress.

No one was going to move, Harry had to do it. Without getting any resistance from Malfoy, he picked his notes and passed them to Blaize.

   “How about you bring the ingredients and equipment for us as well and you can have the notes” He suggested.  
   

   “We don’t make deals with Gryffindors Potter” Blaize said gravely and then grinned. He left with Ron for the storeroom.

Malfoy said nothing the whole time. To protest wasn’t a good move when an entire class was waiting to hex him.

As for Harry and the tanned Slytherin, they had almost become allies even if without the confrontations which where suppose to distance them or apologies that were needed to get over them. Harry would return the hospitality and let it be known that the hard feelings have subsided. He did hope however that their motive wasn’t saving a reputation. Amends could be made after all. Only the lost could not return, With the lighthearted session today, it felt that Hogwarts would remove this mask of disdain it wore at default currently. He himself could not remove the scar, could not bring back his loved ones and could not un-see the horrors he had watched and gone through. For now, his surroundings represented his forlorn but that would change, the war would be forgotten and he alone would have to deal with an aggrieved brain. The more thought he had given it, he realized that every sign of the school’s moving on from first-years not knowing Dumbledore as a headmaster to Snape’s distastefulness or Lupin’s frivolous manners of teacher, it made him restless.

   He had hunted for the signs of war, the broken parts of the castle made a soothing sight to him. He almost wished that the daily prophet would report Voldemort’s return and he was once again consumed by war. Without it, he felt like his purpose faded and of those did too who had died.

His thoughts were cut by the thump of a cauldron on his table. All the ingredients packed in it. Ron from the other side placed silver instruments and a box of liquids on the other side. “Thanks.” Harry peeked in to the cauldron.

  “Why do eighth –years not have textbooks? We will have to save these notes for the N.E.W.T.S. Ridiculous” said Ron.

   “This way we would be forced to pay attention.” Blaize replied as he returned the notes to Harry.  
   

   “We don’t know the instructions Blaize” Ron objected.

   “I went through and memorized them”

   “Um..great, I will do the brewing then, you deal with the ingredients.” And with that they turned around and begin. Harry was left to deal with his potion.

Once again, Malfoy was simply waiting. He hadn’t uttered a word, Harry could not determine what tone to use with him. If his was cold and Malfoy’s was not, Harry would be the aggressor. But then, it could not depend on Malfoy only. Harry loathed him too. As for coming on bad terms again, they had never changed.  
   

   “Assemble the ingredients.” He ordered Malfoy. He did not intend to but well enough. Big grey eyes were shot in his direction but without harshness, only confusion.

Harry rolled his eyes, Malfoy would not choose how to act and yet Harry’s approach bothered him? Several emotions passed though him, while none was guilt, annoyance certainly was.

   “Look Malfoy, it’s bad enough having to work with you but I have had enough reasons to academically fall behind and YOU do not become one of them” He snapped becoming even vexed when Malfoy cringed. He also mentally said to himself to take notes if falling behind was a problem, but then, it wasn’t, was it?

Blaize turned to scowl at Malfoy, from a distance, Katie Bell was heard saying something ill about him. Malfoy only had to retort now to be flung at from all directions.

He did not, he simply extended an arm and pulled the materials to himself. Harry began observing.

The small jar of octopus powder had to be poured directly every time the potion’s color turned frail. Olibanum did not need to measured seperatly and was only required to sit in the bottom of the cauldron lest the stench of burning an old bone killed the brewers.

Both the bottles were passed to Harry. Perhaps his ‘order’ had somehow gotten the meaning that Malfoy would do all the work and Harry would whisk and pour. _And Malfoy obeyed_. The beakers, filing and cleansing equipment and the fang remained with the blonde. First step was scraping away the crude layer of the fang. Harry had already emptied Olibanum to the first red mark on it’s bottle as the instructions said.

   For the filing, a double edged knife with files in between was to be used. Malfoy picked one of the silver equipments hat matched the descriptions the best. He stabbed the fang right on its jagged end and it broke scattering all over his tabled. Harry sighed.

   “The instructions say that you start ‘slowly’ with from the flat side. Without removing the foul layer it cannot be crushed. It is wasted now, get a new one.” Harry had not tried gritting his teeth. He didn’t have much success with it.

   “I don’t usually do this Potter” Malfoy snarled finally showing a hint of his actual self. Several eyebrows rose. Ron had noticed Blaize clench a fist and say ‘He will ruin it again.’  
For Harry though, it was almost relieving, mutual hate was easy for him. “Well then, who does it for you Malfoy?”  
   

    “Crabbe” His voice dropped at a realization. Harry was growing annoyed by the moment. Gregory Goyle had been transferred to Durmstrang and Vincent Crabbe had previously been his potions partner.  
   

   “Call Crabbe then and tell him to do it for you.’ Harry said aloud. Malfoy pursed his lips restlessly turning his gaze to the fragments of bone on his table. Softly Harry insisted “Go on Malfoy” pretending to wait for the impossible to happen.

Without another word Malfoy left for the storeroom.    

   “I knew he used to suck up to Snape to get good marks” Ron said.

  
   “He didn’t have to really, Snape was his godfather, that certainly affected his marking.” Blaize explained.

   “Oh” Ron did not feel anything about the information so he disgarded it.

  
Malfoy returned with another Fang and unboxed it, this time being careful with his handling.  
Once it was done, he soaked a brush in the vial of cleansing ointment and coated the fang with it. For the crushing, he straightly picked the hammer and brought it down on the fang when there came a voice from behind.

   “You should really not do that” It said. Harry too looked up from the cauldron to see a raven haired boy with blue eyes standing next to Malfoy’s table.

   “Who are you?” Harry asked.

   “Damian Black” He said and grinned.


	3. Recalling loved ones and involuntary rescue missions

Blaize and Ron seemed have completed their potion already, they had taken it to Slughorn who was now complimenting them.

Something changed in Malfoy’s expression at the mention of ‘Black’, the boy didn’t notice it. He reached forth never removing the smile from his face and picked a rough textured silver sheet from the equipment on the table and rolled the fang underneath it applying a lot of pressure. After a while of repeating the motion he removed it and the fang lay perfectly powdered.

   “There you go, the table would have broken with the hammer” this was said to Harry.

   “Thanks but aren’t you working with someone?” Harry asked.

   “With Bulstrode but she won’t let me do anything and the cauldron is currently melting because she poured the entire bottle of octopus powder at once. She doesn’t trust my notes you see.”  

    “Oh”

    “You mind if I am around Harry?”

    “Ah um not at all.” There wasn’t unwillingness in his voice but he had not expected the question.

In the mean while Malfoy swiped the powdered fang into a container and passed it to Harry. He tipped it into the cauldron and whisked it clockwise three times and sprinkled the octopus powder. The boy called Damian had dragged a seat on the side of Malfoy’s table but did not address him. He was interested in Harry but this was something quite a fair number of people had in common, however not all were Blacks and belong to a deceased member of the particular house so Malfoy too stared at him.

   “I have wanted to ask something Harry, if you don’t mind, it’s related to uncle Sirius.”  
Something cracked inside Harry when he heard the name, he didn’t let it show and went on to say “Uncle Sirius? Were you closely related?”  
   

   “You must know of Regulus right? He died shortly before my birth, I am his son” He said, for the first time, his smile disappearing.

   “Oh” Harry’s mind was processing all what it could mean when Damian shortly added.

   “Could you please tell me about him Harry? About Sirius? What he was like and everything? You’ve spent time with him right?”

Harry felt something like comfort for not being approached by strangers due to his fame, some part of him though was saddened by what he was asked. “Not as much as I wished to really but yes, I have. Professor McGonagall gave me my father’s diary back in the seventh grade on my birthday, it said a lot him and his years in Hogwarts and I knew him personally too, we were close.”  
  


   "He truly loved you didn’t he?” Damian whispered. “When you met him, he must’ve been really happy.”

   “Oh yes he was, have you not met him yourself?”

Harry noticed the color of the cauldron’s contents and tapped the opening of the octopus powder’s jar over it. Malfoy had been listening attentively but neither of the boys in his sides seemed to notice that he was present.

   “No, he never really knew that I existed. My father and grandparents weren’t really on very find terms with him but mother used to tell me that he was a great person, she had wished that my dad would realize it someday but by the time he did, it was too late.

   After my mother passed away I wanted to find Sirius, I just knew, by the way that mother described him that he could not be a criminal. You can imagine how I felt when he was cleared of all his charges and would be released. I would have done anything, absolutely anything I tell you, to get to meet him once but my bloody family... See, my mother didn’t follow their ridiculous traditions but she never voiced her objection to anything. She was seventeen when she was obliged to marry my father.

They accepted me, the house of Black I mean, they had no reason not to, but that meant they would take care of my upbringing and an important part of that included keeping me away from bad influences like Sirius. I am disgusted them truly. And then…” He stopped as if his throat was clotted and then continued in a strained voice. “There I was plotting how to escape my family and get to Sirius when news came that he was deceased, I…” his eyes gleamed.

   “He was really all I actually considered true family, I wanted to meet him, to know him Harry but…”

Harry too felt his throat hurt bitterly but he managed not to tear up and settled with a long sigh and dropped his head. Damian had noticed that Harry was distressed. He smiled and then looked away. “ I am sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to Sirius like that, I was a little too impatient.”

   “Oh no please, I know how you felt Damian. Believe me I do, he was also my only family after all.”  
Damian nodded. Malfoy was about to drag the cauldron to his table when Harry noticed and once again added the octopus powder. “I may not have spent a lot of time with him but I can assure that your mother was right about him. I have a family picture, I can show you, he was there with Remus and mom and dad, I have his jacket too and a mirror he gave me.”

   “Um, a mirror?”

   “A two way mirror that would have allowed us to speak if I ever needed him. At that time he said that I could approach him for help and I didn’t want him to leave a safety cover and come helping us. If he had been more clear of its use, we could have spoken more but…and I will take you to the Grimmauld Place as well. It was Sirius’s before I inherited it.”

  " Will you Harry? Will you tell me about him too?”

The class was over, the students had gone out to place their cauldrons in the astronomy tower for it required sitting in the sun to dry into faux floo.

   “Great I guess I will have to make it again. I will tell professor Slughorn to let me take the equipment and ingredients back to the dormitory. Damian said eyeing his original seat

   “Or maybe you can say that you worked with me instead, you did more than Malfoy at least” Harry suggested more as a joke but ready to accept if he agreed.

   “Huh no, next time maybe we can work together.”

   “Sure, want to come to astronomy tower?”

   “Okay”

They were about to get up when something clicked in Harry’s mind. “Um Damian, why didn’t you come to me earlier when the school started?”  
   

   “Because I got transferred from Durmstrang just today” He smiled.

   “Oh”  
He would have brought up Quiditch and a student called Goyle also being switched but Professor Slughorn called to them.

   “Harry” He held a note in his hand and his wand in his other fixing what seemed like melted copper on Milicent Bulstrode’s table. “You and Mr. Malfoy are called in Head Mistress Minerva’s office. She says it’s urgent and uh…Aurors are here for something related to Mr. Malfoy”

   “What?” Malfoy almost yelled, fear coloring his voice. He had tried forming other words but nothing other than a few syllables slipped from his tongue.

   “Um Harry” Damian said slowly. “I will take your potion to the astronomy tower.”

He nodded and Damian went off with the cauldron.  
Harry knew that despite what the Aurors had to do, he was not in any sorts of trouble hence there wasn’t a tinge of fright in him. Probably then, it was only his relevance in the matters related to a death eater that made the Aurors want him around as well.

Malfoy was pale beyond normal, he had not bothered hiding his tension. He was sweating and voicelessly panting even. He stood against the table as long as he could before it was reminded to him by the Professor that it was urgent. Perhaps the ministry had finally found something to charge him of.

Harry was only curious, he went to the exit of the classroom waiting for a moment before Malfoy too headed for the door. They walked quietly but Harry could feel that Malfoy wasn’t liking the pace at which he was walking. They were advancing at his doom now, he would not be in a hurry.

Surreptitiously Harry smirked and began walking fast obliging Malfoy to do similar. When they arrived, Harry said the password to the headmistress’s office and walked in, the blonde following behind. Minerva waited for them besides two men in Auror uniforms. They were both tall and well built, intelligence could be seen in their faces. One of them, Harry seemed to recognize, not taking long, he remembered that Ron had went inside the Ministry office disguised as him.

   “You called us Professor?” Harry said so casually as if they had been caught picking on first years.

   “Yes Harry you see, the Aurors have something they believe wasn’t really brought into the notice of the ministry earlier before.” Harry observed that everyone had started to call him by the first name. “You see, court scribe Percy Weasely had suggested to inquire George Weasely about his experience with the vanishing cabinet. And…”

   “Mrs. McGonagall, if you don’t mind, we would like to take over from here.” Said one of them.

She eyed the two of them worriedly and then nodded at the man. “They will be talking to you alone and I am sure very professionally.”

Harry didn’t understand what that meant but it seemed Malfoy had because he seemed to plead Professor McGonagall with his eyes uncaring if Harry was there. Minerva looked guilty for a second but she quickly tore her eyes away and left the room. In spite of she herself assuring them that it would go well, she looked heavily concerned, maybe she knew the words were only important for her to say.

   “Hello Mr. Potter it is an honor meeting you.” Said the Auror that had spoken earlier. He shook hands with Harry and the turned to Malfoy who seemed to be on verge of breaking into a run. The look in the Auror’s eyes when he turned to the blonde, it hinted a sense of familiarity. It could be that they had dealt with him earlier. “We have a accusation based on evidences we have been gathering lately. This would have needed that we apparate to the courtroom and but Minister wanted that we don’t bother Harry with that.”

The other man stepped forward “You had another purpose beside murdering Albus Dumbledore didn’t you, death eater? It seems you didn’t fail on this one?”

   “What purpose?” Harry asked expecting something he didn’t know.

   “The use of the vanishing cabinet to allow death eaters into the school.”

After a few stutters that were meant to be followed by an argument Malfoy said “yes”

   “Say it, what you did and elaborate.”

   “I…” He turned to Harry, was it help he wanted or reluctance of being vulnerable before him, Harry didn’t know but he responded him with unchanged expressions. “I had heard this student say that the vanishing cabinet was used on him as a prank by the dead Weasely and his twin brother so I figured the one on Borgin and Burkes and the one in the room of requirement could form a passage for…”

   “For your companions to enter the school and cause the destruction and kill. Repeat it.”

   “For them to…”

   “Your companions to” The auror pressed.

   “My …companions to enter the school and cause the destruction and kill”  
Harry wondered why Malfoy did not protest at all, perhaps his previous trials had given him reasons.

   “You have played a vital role in the death eaters entrance and murder of innocents, which is not only in itself a vicious crime that indirectly makes you a murderer but also proves that you were useful to You-know-who and are not ‘technically innocent’.”

   “You will be charged with murder.” the second auror joined in.  
Malfoy was frozen and panicking at the same time, while he did not move an inch from his place his body trembled.

   “Unless of course, you can justify yourself which is why we have not directly taken you to the court.”

   “Can someone tell me why I am here?” Harry asked.

   “We will Mr. Potter, please wait.”

   “So do you or do you not have anything to prove you self innocent death eater, and do you Mr. Potter?”

   “I what? Am I also accused?” Harry asked puzzled.

   “Of course not Mr. Potter. As much as we recommend that you do not do it, Minister Shacklebolt insists that you if you... if you can, speak for the criminal. You have not said anything against him and hopefully not to have say anything in favor of him, most likely, we should not have concerned you at all but we have to obey Ministry’s order”

   “You mean, how can I? Am I supposed to make this decision?”

   “No, no, you misunderstand it. It is reasoning we need, if the death eater can provide it and can …testify it, we make our decision.”

   “But this is not how it works”  
He looked at Malfoy, who was now directly staring at him. Two things were clear, he was called there so that the Minister would be able to confirm his approval on what was bound to happen with Malfoy and second that Malfoy was all his to kill or keep alive. It was one of his privileges. He should not have saved the world, Voldemort would have had control of the ministry then and he would not be stuck.

   “What will be penalty if he found guilty?”

   “The dementor’s kiss.”

Harry sighed, here his moral code had to considered. “Can I have a word with him?”


	4. Save a Malfoy, Trouble a Potter

Harry did not find himself very willing to speak to the Malfoy alone, the Aurors however nodded and left masking their reluctance in the act as if they had received orders from the minister himself. Once they were gone Harry seated himself on Professor McGonagall’s desk and sighed.

   “So it comes to this.” He said mostly to himself. The other boy was quiet again and unmoving. Harry had observed that recently, he was always waiting for the other to make a move. How very not-Slytherin-like.

   “Listen Malfoy” His sounded exhausted. “The Aurors are not going to let you pass this lifetime standing there like that” He waited. No response. “Are you going to say anything?” He tensed but did not speak. “I will just go and tell the aurors to take you away”  
Harry lifted himself off the table and was about to walk past the blonde. “Wait!” Malfoy said urgently. Harry turned around standing face to face with him

   “Yes?”

   “I-I…”

   “You don’t really have anything to say do you? There is no denying that you helped the death eaters. I can’t save you Malfoy.”

   “Potter…”

   “Gosh, think of something to say and say it altogether.” He went back to the desk and sat casually. “You know, I am not supposed to be here given the option to affect lives.  
I’m here because Kingsley wants me to make decisions for the ministry. He wants my agreement so that people will not speak against him, no one wants to disagree with me” He snorted. “He may have become a permanent minister but for that to stay the same, he needs the utmost support of the people and staff. He offered me a position too for something like a consultant so that everyone in the high positions will not be able to do anything against him, it works like this, if I am involved then standing against him means opposing me and I guess you know people avoid that now. A good man he is, Kingsley, a friend too but who doesn’t want to secure power.”

He paused. The blonde was not in any state to discuss things like this but he seemed to listen, even if he did so clenching his fists and swallowing everything rude he wanted to say. But Harry continued merely to declare things than actually pass information. “So I was able to say what to do with death eaters, whether to execute the likes of Luscious Malfoy or what to do when Narcissa Malfoy is caught”  
Harry tilted his head searching for a response. Nothing. He was well broken, this blonde. It was only their history that actually kept Harry from feeling sympathetic.

   “I decided whether to imprison them or how to alter laws after whatever had occurred. It’s just about making it official that I side with the minister personally and he will seal his place but now what do I do with you, huh?”

   “You get to enjoy this don’t you, Potter?” Malfoy said bitterly.

   “Don’t show your actual self just yet Malfoy, you might still have hope.” Harry got off and stepped close to Malfoy and bent his head to able to speak in his ear. “I have not tried saving anyone of you, just chosen punishments at random but there are a hundred unnamed punishments in Azkaban that the criminals receive. From these aurors that acted so tamed right now, from each other. Believe me Malfoy, your ego is not as important as your sanity”

   “And you say this after telling me that you can’t save me?”

   “With you such an insufferable being and an attitude like that, I cannot Malfoy. I have saved you earlier, you were a death eater then and I hated you but then it didn’t require conversations of this nature. I will help you now too, morals you see but don’t make it difficult.”

   “Please help me Potter I don’t want to go to Azkaban, I don’t- I don’t want the dementor’s kiss. Please…” His face wore a mixture of disgust and fear but he managed to look Harry in the eye, there was even a hint of moisture under his. At least he did not have to be pushed a lot, Harry would not have done that.

   “So now we are talking, tell me what were the consequences for failing a task when you were under control of Voldemort?”

   “He…he killed those who failed. When I didn’t kill Dumbledore I was only spared because there wasn’t another method of bringing death eaters into Hogwarts, Snape could not do it because Professor McGonagall was keeping an eye on him and apart you people, no one suspected me.”

   “Any incident that could prove it?”

   “Wormtail.” He blurted out. “When he hesitated killing you, You-know-who strangled him.”

  “Ah yes, I witnessed that. It would work. You had no option but to do it for the sake of survival BUT would you not do it if it wasn’t for that? How do we prove it?”

This was the first time they were actually not fighting while speaking. It was possible at least even it required such circumstances.

Malfoy seemed to consult all memories he had from his time as an active death eater, after a while he said “When you were brought to the manor, I didn’t identify you, they would have handed you over to the Dark Lord in vulnerable states if I had.”

   “Aha and how were you not simply a coward to make the mistake of giving him the wrong person?” Malfoy was going to panic, he started to say something but then Harry added “I don’t think it will get to that. I might have to convince them of it though…anyhow. Don’t bring up that they only wanted to assure if it was me, we will say that only you knew. I will call them back in.”

So he would save Malfoy. Harry found it unnecessary to not, he didn’t have the same vengefulness towards him as he did with the likes of Wormtail, Bellatrix or Luscious, his loved ones had been hurt at their hands. If he was truly not to be blamed for the murders in school, which Harry considered him too weak for, he had technically done nothing. He wouldn’t just harm someone to this extent simply for not being on good terms.

They explained the discussed lot to the aurors, Harry doing most of the speaking and Malfoy replying every time it was needed. By the end when the aurors had run out of everything to argue with, they skipped to trying to convince Harry that the blonde was not worth the rescue. Why was it too personal to them, particularly whom Ron had became an imposter of, he didn’t know. Harry didn’t want to be impolite with them specially because siding with Malfoy was hard enough, fighting aurors for him? No thanks.

He did end with ‘I will approach you people if I have a change of opinion.’ They looked hopeful and Malfoy bulged his eyes impossibly large.

They left, disappointment prominent in their faces. Outside the office, they spoke to McGonagall for a minute and then headed away. Before Harry could go and resume his classes, the headmistress returned and closed the door behind them.

If Harry wasn’t mistaken he had sensed dissatisfaction in her. She could not detest the blonde for reasons others did, it was unlike her. Of more immediate importance however was that she did not will for them to leave yet.

   “Please take a seat” She said and walked around the desk and onto her chair. Harry and Malfoy too sat down. For the first time Harry noticed the oddness in Minerva occupying the office. Everything was the same, the tall shelves of books that reached the ceiling, stairs on opposite sides that led up to the enormous globe within the arch and the portraits that seemed to be hung at random places and still it lacked something, this place, even the temperature had dropped. Maybe the phoenix used to affect that.

Dumbledore… Harry shook himself out of the thought before his mind could go into another session of bereaving over memories.

   “Y-yes professor” Harry said questioningly.  
The woman hesitated, swallowed and eyed a crystal placed on the desk. She turned away from Harry. “Mister Malfoy, I am afraid you cannot stay at Hogwarts”  
She stated.

   “What do you mean? Will I have to discontinue my education?” The Slytherin asked.  
Harry rolled his eyes. Once again, he had no purpose to be there or perhaps once again, he had decisions to take that he didn’t want to. It had began to look more like a responsibility than a privilege now and he was not at all fond of those.

   “You misunderstand, Mister Malfoy, you are allowed to take classes but due to certain circumstances, I cannot allow you to stay at the dormitories. I did not wish for this, I can assure you but my hands are tied.”

   “Then where do I go then, would they let me go back to the manor?”

   “The manor has become the ministry’s property now and is no longer the Malfoys to inhabit. Besides, you cannot be permitted to live unsupervised, someone will have to be appointed to make sure you... don’t indulge in anything suspicious. It is only a formality, please understand this. It would not be considered very wise of me to not do so”

Malfoy lowered his head. “Will I have to stay with an auror?” He whimpered. It was no secret that the ministry or its staff weren’t very generous with the criminals. Malfoy appeared to be well aware of that.

   “That is how it seems to be.”

   “Professor please don’t do this. I won’t do anything” he pleaded.  
Well, Mafloy did a lot of begging lately. Was ministry to be ~~credited~~ blamed for this too?

   “I don’t want to do this to you alright? I look at you as a student and nothing else and they are obviously treating you differently for your status.” The last sentence was delivered with the hint of coldness. So it was not that she disliked Malfoy, on the contrary, she seemed concerned. “There is actually an alternative.”

Her gaze was now shifted to Harry. “I am NOT getting involved in this professor. I have already helped Malfoy despite our differences but I will not do it again.” He declared stressing on his words and staring gravely at the headmistress.

   “Harry, they will let you look over Mister Malfoy and no one else who volunteers. You may have your differences but I cannot let anyone from the ministry be left with him to do as they please. You know well why that is so Harry. Please.”

   “Why can’t you do it? Why can’t anyone else do it? I can ask the Kingsley for someone from the school to keep an eye on him but I will not do it professor and that it final.”

   “Harry the teachers do not want to do it, I have turned to you after consulting them. The reason why I am doing this in the first place is to keep him at a distance from students when teachers are not present. As a formality of course that is. We have no other options”

   “Then you do it, am I not a student by the way or is my safety not your concern?” He definitely did not need security against the likes of Malfoy but it was something he could argue with.

   “You can perform wandless magic Harry and you have defeated real dangers.”

   “And why can’t you do it? Are you also afraid that a death eater might do something to you?”

She flinched. “Harry that is not the case. I have obligations to fulfill. If I didn’t, the first thing I would have done was not leaving you with the Dursleys.”

He widened his eyes slightly. “I am sorry professor I don’t mean to be rude but, I cannot and obviously Malfoy doesn’t want to either.” Harry turned to him startled when he didn’t instantly decline the option.

“Malfoy say it.” He snapped.

“The aurors have given it a hard time Harry. Your differences maybe your concern but for him it is way more serious”

Harry dropped his head. He considered calling the aurors back and probably asking them to bring a dementor along. He had not signed up for this. Even if he was forced to change his attitude he was still Malfoy and Harry hated him with passion. How could it work at all?

   “You are going to force me to, aren’t you?” He asked in a low voice.

   “If it is what takes to protect my student.”

Harry suspired. “Doesn’t it mean that I would also have to stay away from school? Professor you know how my previous years had passed. I just wanted something more peaceful now with my friends not him. It is my last year here.”

   “They can come over to you when they like. I will permit it.”

   “Fine but if he causes me any kind of distress…it is over. The aurors will take him away”

   “Mister Malfoy, you will have to agree to that. You will not indulge into any sorts of verbal or physical fights with him and do as he says.”

   “But…alright”

   “There are a few other changes we will have to make as well. From now onwards, you are forbidden the use of magic”

   “What?”

   “Silence Malfoy” She snarled changing her tone at once. “Your education will be reduced to theory and I will confiscate your wand. In school too, I should not find you fighting others and with Harry, I need your absolute cooperation or I am sorry but I will not be able save you. Is that understood?”

   “Yes Professor but will you not ask him to not fight me either?” He asked looking at Harry distrustfully.

   “He will do whatever it takes to fulfill the responsibility he was given.” Getting to order Malfoy around? It would be wonderful if he wasn’t sacrificing the company of his friends for him. “Any questions?”

   “Where will we stay?” Harry asked.

   “The Grimmauld place. You can pack today after school and tomorrow you will go there after classes are finished. You may go for now”

Just damn it…Harry stood up and stormed out of the office briefly noticing Malfoy also exit.


	5. Off to Doom!

“You can’t be serious about this mate? Why did you agree at all?” Ron asked yet another time. His gaze followed Harry stomping about the Gryffindor common room. Hermione sat on his bed leaning against the suite case he was to carry along when he left.

“You act like I had an option” He snapped stopping to turn to Ron. He had not told him about saving Malfoy from Aurors before he was shoved with the responsibility. He would not understand the complex of his morals, he didn’t either. Hermione had, Harry knew she would. The protests from her were only show displeasure to Ron. She had had her concerns about dangers that the blonde could still possess or those that could be linked to him. She wasn’t very pleased about her best friend moving out either.

“Of course you had an option Harry. You could simply tell McGonagall that you weren’t going to do it and that is it. How are you going to bear Malfoy for a whole year?”  
Harry took a deep breath and walked over to sit with Hermione. She eyed Harry with both caution and compassion. “I don’t honestly know if I can. He is Malfoy for god’s sake and I am running low on patience these days.”

“I wonder why he didn’t simply reject this though. In his right state of mind he would never agree to live with Harry” Hermione said.  
Ron approached them too and sat on his bed which was opposite Harry’s. “He wouldn’t Hermione, dad once spoke about how the ministry treats the criminals. They can actually go mad with the level of torture. Malfoy has spent his life like the privileged bastard he is, he is too much of a coward to be able to survive with an auror disciplining him. Those people cast the cruciatus curse like it is for tickling. With the amount of time he has spent with them before the beginning of the term, he must have been hexed a dozen times by now.”

“That is not really appropriate of the authority you know” Hermione answered. “There purpose is to keep the criminals in control and tame them, with these methods they will just worsen them”

“That is not the point Mione’, I am stuck for all I care. Malfoy may not be able to use his magic but that-that sharp tongue of his, I will have him dead within weeks.”  
Seamus walked in taking the attention of the trio. “He is outside Harry, it is time for you to leave”  
Harry nodded and got up. Neville followed inside. “Is Harry gone yet?” He searched first few beds eagerly before spotting them.

“Not just yet, leaving now” Harry said.

“We will miss you Harry” Seamus said gloomily. Harry stood up and embraced him and Neville.

“Don’t just abandon me after I go, I have asked professor McGonagall to send you guys over whenever we see fit”

“Of course Harry but you know that it would not be the same”

“Yes you are right but I will rejoin you, Neville and Ron at auror training. I am not happy about this Seamus, I…really didn’t want it.”  
With that Harry went out of the dormitories and into the common room followed by Hermione. “Aren’t you going to come?”

“To see Harry set off to live with that ferret? No thanks” Ron replied coldly. Hermione shook her head and walked along. Outside they were met by Hagrid, Malfoy with a suitcase that was way to small for what he could have owned. His face, like how it had been in these days, was absolutely neutral and his eyes focused on anything that wasn’t human. Hermione did feel odd at the presence of him but not being the one to pick fights, she ignored him in the same manner he was doing.

“Hello Harry, leaving already? Thought I would watch you teary leaving Hogwarts by the train for the last time, guess it won’t go how I expected.” Hagrid said.

“I would still have to take it Hagrid and I am not leaving school…just not…living here anymore.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. Do visit me okay.”

“Of course Hagrid. Damian, how were you allowed to be here? He asked watched the boy approach them”

“Wasn’t easy, Professor McGonagall can make Durmstrang look like a lenient place. She thought I wanted your autograph but I managed convincing her otherwise.”

“Wonder how you did really.”

“Who are you?” Hermione asked looking at him first and then at Harry.

“Damian.” He replied. “I met Harry in potions class”

“Oh” Hermione still did not understand why he was there but to question further seemed rude so she settled for asking Harry afterwards.

“You are not friends with any Slytherin apparently.”

“And I doubt I will ever be” He said absentmindedly always keeping his stare at their path.

“Really Harry and I thought you were actually nice” He pouted.

“What?” Harry turned around confusedly and then tapped his forehead at the mistake. “Merlin, sorry I didn’t notice your robes before.”

“No, it’s okay, it is totally fine, absolutely.” Damian said in a fake sad voice.

“Man I am really sorry I didn’t…ah me”

“It’s okay silly. By the way, you might want to change your opinion about the Slytherin okay, they always talk about you and they really like you.”

“I know, they have changed recently. Just personal experience.”

“Ah never mind.”

They reached the entrance of Hogwarts and stepped out of it. Harry turned around to look up at the castle. He was coming back tomorrow god dam it. But he did really feel like he was leaving. He remembered nights where him and fellow Gryffindors used to stay awake and mimic sounds of animals, insult Slytherin-s and crack jokes about Filch, Severus and for as long as she was around, Umbridge. Half the fifth year had been about teasing Harry about Cho and Cedric, both whom he liked and neither who could get and the worst part, they liked each other! But it was all friendly. He in return had accused Seamus for stalking Cormac, who eyed him suspiciously and he blushed the darkest shade of red.

For Neville, Harry had yelled about him being in love with Luna in the Great Hall. Everyone had laughed first but she walked up to a Neville who was hiding behind Ron and said “That is really sweet of you Neville, see me around if you feel like” And she causally hopped away humming. The laughing converted to hooting.

And if he looked back further, he could remember his twelve-year-old skinny self sneaking out with Ron to play pranks on Filch and once actually scaring the life out of Astoria Greengrass with a spider which was wonderful other than that Ron had screamed louder than her and stumbled out of the cloak of invisibility and got them both stuck with two week detentions and a subtraction of thirty points.  
Good memories those were but there would be no more like them thanks to—He scowled very nastily at Malfoy looking him in the eyes before actually realizing what he did. The other looked away at once.

“Go, shall we?” Hagrid asked offering his arm to the boys.  
Hermione leaned against Harry and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He returned the hug similarly. “Wait” They heard McGonagall call before them. She was followed by Ron.

“Always have to take you long huh?” Harry said to him.

“Shut up mate” He hissed and also pulled Harry into a tight hug. “It was your last night with us. I should have done more than complaining”

“You sound like a wife Ron and I am not going away forever. Wonder what you guys will do once I get married.” Harry joked inwardly saddened over what he meant.

“Oh we will live right next to your room with a broad window to keep an eye on you. In fact, you can just marry us” Hermione said smiling warmly.

“Yeah right”

“Yes very well, you may leave now” Professor McGonagall interrupted them.

“Bye, Harry” Hermione said placing a quick kiss on his forehead and headed inside with Ron who to had facetiously advanced at him for a kiss before he was shoved away. Harry grinned.

“Later then Harry, I would visit whenever you are okay with it.” Damian said who had patiently waited for the trio to greet.

“Yes sure” Harry was going for a hand shake with him but it felt inappropriate seeing how he had seen others off. He gave him a singled armed hug and he left.

“Now you Mister Malfoy, you need to understand that you have had a narrow escape and you need to maintain an attitude that allows either of you to be able to bear each other’s company considering you are going to live in Harry’s house.”

“Yes professor” Malfoy mumbled.

“You may hand over your wand now”  
Malfoy did, unbuckling his suitcase to reveal nothing but books and his wand which he extended to McGonagall. “Where are his clothes, where is his…everything?” Harry asked and then bit his tongue.  
It had passed as mockery and he had not intended to stretch the rudeness this far. Malfoy was flushed with embarrassment and yet he did not speak almost making Harry guilty for a moment. “I mean, he can’t stay in uniform robes at home, are you even wearing anything underneath them?”  
Harry had tried saying something friendly but it simply worsened it making Malfoy grow conscious and step back.

“If you are not pleased with that, do him the favor of getting him clothes” Professor said sharply. It was Harry’s turn to be ashamed. “You two will not come to school tomorrow and repair the place as well as assign household tasks among yourselves and—”

Harry cut her “Why will we have to do house chores, what about Kreacher?”

“The house elf is dead.”

“…How?”

“Fenrir Greyback, him and…Narssica Malfoy” The professor made sure not to look at the blonde in the eye. “went to the Grimmauld place hoping to find shelter as Mrs. Malfoy was previously a Black and was expected to be allowed entrance. Because you had inherited it however, she was not and the house elf had immerged to apologize, he probably made ill remarks about the werewolf and angered him.”

“That I can understand. Great then, I will work, my aunt and uncle weren’t so cruel after all to prepare me for this. Can we go now.”

“Not just yet. You too, need to be able to communicate properly. I want you to exchange words. With this coldness, you cannot survive an entire year together and most probably more. Do it now, discuss something regarding looking after your new home or anything and I want both of you to speak” Professor commanded. The last sentence had been directed to Malfoy due to his lack of talking.

“When we arrive, find yourself a room that is furthest from mine and make sure we don’t bump into each other for the next year” Harry said.

Professor glared at him. “Talk like civilized people and you are staying next to each other” Harry gaped at her. “In separate rooms of course.” She coughed. “Malfoy, begin.”

He took his time finding anything to say at all. Harry was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Thank you for helping me Potter” He said quickly. “I will not make a secret of how much it disgusts me to take help from anyone but for you to be kind enough, I am grateful.”

Harry widened his eyes. The blonde either not lied at all or did it professionally. He was honest about he how felt towards things and was polite. It was too much. “You need not be. I have a moral code to stick to, I would not get someone tortured like that simply because of having an unpleasant history.”

Now it was the blonde who wondered about the Golden boy’s acting skills. “Don’t you blame me for everything else Potter?” His voice turned cold. “You lie”

“Malfoy…” Professor glared at him.

“The death eaters were simply too lazy to actually assign you a task, the vanishing cabinet was ministry’s to use for accusations, the only real crime you could have committed was doing something to Dumbledore and you were a coward for it Malfoy”

“I wonder why after being the coward do they actually bother to do this to me” He said darkly. “Pleasant to see that my kind can get under a highlight too. It’s about being relevant isn’t it? Nobody hated me for being a racist or a hater of the boy who lived. The same reasons matter now suddenly but you wouldn’t know, you have not ever stayed out of attention and all you had to do was having your parents die for you”

“Shut up Malfoy or I will get those aurors to drag you to Azkaban and feed you to the dementors along with your father”

“Quiet you too, stop it this instant.” Professor McGonagall snapped. “You will have to work on the way you interact or your dissatisfaction is your own problem. I want to see this improved very soon, am I clear?”

“Yes Professor” The two obediently said at once.

“Leave now.” She said and stomped back into the school.

“Please don’t call the aurors” Malfoy pleaded with an abrupt change in his voice. Hagrid coughed reminding them of his presence and that they needed to apparate.

Harry did not reply to the blonde but he did get some idea of what the thought of aurors did to him. He wouldn’t use it against him. At least not until the absolute need arose.


	6. A truce perhaps.

   “There we are Harry” Hagrid said cheerfully but the prominent discomfort on his face gave a different message. “I guess I will leave you now. Remember, you may be hidden from Muggles but it’s better you still not try anything suspicious.” He leaned close to Harry’s ear and whispered. “And keep your eyes  and ears open Harry.”

  Harry nodded and Hagrid, who was only allowed the means of magic for travelling this time, disapparated.

   And there he was entering the Grimmauld place with his new housemate.

   With Kreacher gone, he could not ask anyone to get rid of the portrait of Walburga Black who shot Harry a glare but her expressions softened at the sight of Malfoy, or the strange purple robes that had almost strangled Ron to death earlier and numerous other objects that belonged from the time this house was owned by Sirius’s ancestors.

Not like Kreacher could have happily removed the possessions of his pureblood masters but being part of Harry’s heritage, he would have had to obey. As for bothering to doit himself, he had no intention.

He had to leave the Muggle objects there because they were Sirius’s but he decided to not take his room as he wasn’t particularly comfortable with almost naked women leering down at him.  The place was dusty and eerie looking and needed a lot of repairing which he was probably doing by himself as Malfoy could not use magic. He looked up at the staircase dimly lit by a lamp upstairs and said

“I will clean the place, make it habitable and get the kitchen cleared first so you can cook us something while I go through the rest of the house.”

He was about to head to the kitchen but was stopped by Malfoy saying “I don’t know how to cook, Potter” Harry sighed frustrated. Of course he couldn’t cook, he never had the need to.

“But it seems you will have to learn considering you are good for little else”

“And how am I supposed to do it without knowing any methods?” Malfoy questioned gnarling.

Harry tried to recall the name of the cookbook owned by Molly Weasely at the burrow and pictured the plump old witch stirring a pot wearing what closely resembled a muggle apron and a motherly smile as she stood beneath the blue title. Then he said the conjuration spell. 

   Out of thin air, the orange book appeared in the air landing smoothly on Harry’s hand. He eyed the wand that still lay in robe but ignored it as Malfoy was already told of his ability.

   “Take the instructions and be careful with them, I have seen your handling of those before”

He said using the usual harsh and now scolding tone he did with Malfoy.  The blonde had gaped at the use of wandless magic before quickly discarding the expression. He took the cookbook but called before Harry as he was about to turn away and leave.

   “Potter…we need a talk”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his face instinctively a little cold and stiff due to facing Malfoy. “I have noticed you are pretty much…ordering me around and—”

   “And you object to it?” Harry completed his sentence with a hint of threat.

   “I…I don’t want to do anything that takes me back to the ministry” he stated then continued as if he had accepted some kind of a defeat. “Even it takes letting you do that but as horrible as it may be, we have to manage together now so it is better we do establish a more civilized manner of communication.”

   “Merlin look at this, Draco Malfoy demanding a truce. Gods must’ve marked this day” Harry crossed his arms smiling grimly.

   “I still hate you Potter, that does not change but I have to take every measure that assures my stay over here”

   “Oh is it so, Malfoy? Honestly, what level of low do you actually have to be to agree to living at the mercy of an enemy? I would have kissed a dementor by now.”

   “You don’t understand Potter” He had shifted to his vulnerable tone. “You don’t know what they can do, those aurors, you have no idea”

   “Ron told me they are bad with criminals. Must’ve been worse with you because of your attitude”

The attitude Harry knew well had vanished and that the reason was different but taunts  couldn’t hurt.

   “Attitude? You wouldn’t dare to raise a voice before them”

   “You are forgetting you are the criminal Malfoy, I can invite them over for dinner if I want and speak to them how Kingsley would” Harry said calmly. “But I won’t, the ministry has only shifted sides now seeing who is in power, it is not just as it is supposed to be but whatever, try avoiding these topics and we might actually survive this stay”

   Malfoy nodded seeming uneasy at the reminder of being a death eater. Harry quickly cast  a scourgify on the kitchen and also thought about adding a self cleaning charm at the shelves and dishes but disregarded the idea as it would leave less work for Malfoy.

   He then went upstairs making the dust disappear out of the living rooms and the spider webs melt away. He mended the broken plaster and torn wallpapers on the walls and also polished the furniture.  He secured away the belongings of everyone from the order that lay around feeling a tinge of pang as he swiped away empty chocolate wrappers that were most likely Remus’s.

In the bedrooms, he straightened the bed sheets, transifigured a closet door that was hanging on the hinges with a fixed one in one of the room and took the longest in the master bedroom where Buckbeak had stayed. A lot of furniture had been fragmented, the mirror and everything made of glass was shattered and feathers lay everywhere. Not to mention, the hippogriff did not have a separate bathroom.

As for the bathrooms that did exist, the smell was queer if not foul since none were used in a long while but the moisture had damaged the walls and the smell of wet cement mixed with scents used in bathtubs was odd.

 He finally went to the top floor where the rooms of Sirius and Regulus were. The differences had been obvious.

   There was red and gold everywhere in Sirius’s room. There were also many objects that belonged to the Muggle world. Led Zeppelin and The Doors posters, Dc comics, Harry even found a cassette player on the floor with a cassette inside that had the Queen’s emblem.   Searching around further had found him a Playboy issue that made him look back at the wall this time easily locating the seventies' models with the skimpy dressing, provocative poses and expressions that were meant to look seductive. 

One the next walls were pictures of Sirius with a dragon, him and James grinning while Remus looked vexed as two large wolf years poked out of his head. There was him with a group of other Gryffindors in midst of whom Minerva McGonagall stood a young and beautiful woman, Dumbledore was by her side and his hair still had a shade of ginger on them. There were many others Harry had taken his time staring at. He decided he would leave everything as it was  in this place until Damian had had his visit and later clean it placing things in the  shelves and removing the creases in the posters. He briefly visited Regulus’s room too leaving it as it was as well and headed downstairs.

He had to go all the way down the many floors. He was sweaty when he entered the kitchen for he had went everywhere in this giant of a house. He was hoping for something prepared that he could eat.

   When he entered however he found Malfoy staring into the direction of the entrance as if waiting for him to return. His face showed exasperation and his arms were tied, the cookbook was in one of his hands and his foot tapped impatiently at the wooden floor.

   “Potter” He said as Harry came inside. “How about you conjure me another cookbook that contains the recipes of stale dead ferrets?”

Harry stared for a moment, then said calmly “I did not ask you to cook yourself Malfoy”

   “Ugh, Harry Potter, for some reason dead ferrets are stocked in the food storage and there is absolutely nothing that we can eat” Malfoy spat.

Well, he shouldn’t have expected food here no? Professor McGonagall actually forgot about that. “Must be for Buckbeak, the ferrets” He said walking over and sitting on a chair from the dining table.

   “The hippogriff? Wasn’t it executed?”

   “No we didn’t not let that happen” Harry said tiredly.

Malfoy seemed to have questions but abandoned them knowing what mattered more.

   “Right then, I don’t have any Muggle money and I am not going to Gringotts, convert the currency and then buy something. We will have to wait till tomorrow”

   “Not tomorrow Potter, Professor McGonagall asked us to take a day off”

   “Huh yes, I will go visit Gringotts tomorrow, find yourself a room and go to sleep” Harry got left his chair leaving it dragged out of its place. Once he had turned around he sneaked a chewing gum out of his pocket which Hermione had brought.

   “I am not sleeping like this, Potter” Malfoy snapped.

Harry looked back at him to retaliate but Malfoy’s eyes shot straight at the pink sugary strip he was holding. Harry shoved it back at once. “You can do whatever you want Malfoy, I don’t care”

But the other only continued to stare at his pocket as if he had been not been fed for days. Harry pursed his lips, thought of leaving and then was defeated into pulling the gum out of his robe pocket, snapping it in  half and throwing a piece at Malfoy. “Don’t swallow it”

He had made it out of the kitchen by the time Malfoy registered what he had said and questioned “What?” He followed him out of the kitchen. “What do you mean by 'don't  swallow it'?”

Harry was on the stairs, he did not look at the blonde this time. “You don’t eat it, it is only to chew and throw and it is a Muggle sweet, you are more than free to give it back”

But Malfoy had no intention of doing so. “ _Muggles_ , they can’t even invent food that’s edible”

Several words came to Harry’s mouth but he left it there unwilling to explain. Having recalled something however, he did look over his shoulder “Are you going to sleep?”

   “Huh? No”

   “Come upstairs, select a bedroom and be in the living room”

   “Why?”

So that he is not left with his twisted brain and doesn’t … “To call that truce you spoke of earlier”

And with that he continued to ascend the stairs unconcerned of whether Malfoy had approved. When he reached and went to the bedroom he had found the chocolate wrappers in, he heard footsteps and Malfoy was soon looking around the corridor that opened in the living room. Harry could use the extra robes in the closet, by now, he was taller than Remus and had the same shoulder and waist measurement  except that he had gained a good physique due to all the adventures he had been through.

He removed his spectacles and changed them with the lenses Hermione had given her after being exhausted of fixing his glasses a gazillion-th time. Despite she had warned him against sleeping with them, he had began wearing them at nights for he kept his lights on and his eyes fixed upon the ceiling and he did not like the haze. It always made his brain drift into thoughts very quickly.

He also took a shower and changed into a more comfortable attire.

Before leaving, he stopped before a mirror remembering Hermione telling him that he looked way better this way, his featured looked more defined _…_ “It could mean opportunities Harry”

   “He looks stripped of all innocence” Ron had said.

   “The glasses aren’t part of his face Ron, he is not innocent underneath.” Hermione had joked as she occasionally did.

And they had laughed. Harry claimed to not care but he certainly was curious at least. He had made sure never to check in case he was caught and made fun of. Now as he saw himself clean shaved and _defined,_ he did look really different. Maybe better.

 He grinned stupidly and then left the room.

Malfoy had been waiting outside. “What took you so long Potter?”

   “Shower, Changing clothes, happened to not have them taken away”

Perhaps he was quite rude with Malfoy unlike earlier when he ignored him most of the times.  But they hadn’t been in any casual situations once their rivalry had become more serious so probably it was normal.

   “Can we establish you don’t mention anything ministry related?” He asked making an attempt to keep his tone neutral.

   “Are you really such a coward Malfoy?”

   “I am not but…can you _please_ understand Potter.”

   “Can’t you just explain why I should understand. That would really make it easier. The ministry is terrible with the criminals I know that much but what exactly is causing you to whimper at the mere mention is beyond my understanding ”

   Harry found disgust creeping into his voice. After witnessing deaths, facing the greatest evil the wizard world had known in the century and what not, he could not bring himself to sympathize over something this small on the scale. (And then it was Malfoy)

   “They…do have to do this Potter?”

   “Yes”

“They gave me Veritaserum to find out all I knew about you-know-who and all favors I had done him. They had questioned about Dumbledore’s …death to find anything that could give them a reason to execute me. That was straight away  what they were looking for. They found nothing, on the contrary they knew I was reluctant to kill, that I could not do it and that  I had had  my share of suffering.

It did not add up for them, a pure blood death eater not willing to kill, the aurors hated me with passion, one of those who came today, the death eaters had killed his wife even after the ministry had verified her blood status. He was most horrible. They had the authority to do it so they did, use all means to _harm_ me”

   “The crusiatus curse?”

   “And…more”

He did not sound very easy as he spoke. He maybe a coward but ego made him hesitate at revealing his vulnerability or suffering.  As for Harry, he at least understood how the aurors must have felt as Malfoy’s reluctance did not add up to him either.

   “You didn’t want to kill?” He asked rather insensitively.

   “Of course I did not. I may not have been the most heroic or kindly but I certainly did not want blood on my hands”

So he did not. “You wanted the Muggle borns dead.”

   “Twelve of age, having no understanding of anything. You at that time, Potter, risked the secrecy of the entire wizarding world from the Muggles just to stay away from your family”

   “Yeah alright, you don’t want to hear about the ministry, we won’t bring it up. What do I get in return?” Malfoy thought, no answer came right away, in fact none came at all. “Honestly, there is really nothing you can give me”

   “We are not making a deal Potter, we are calling a truce.”

   “Fine Malfoy, for your side, I am bearing you, how about you become bearable?”

   “What is that supposed to mean?”

   “This, you are doing all the housework now, I am not visiting all the floors everyday to keep things clean. That is your department, so is food. And other than that, my friends will be here and I don’t need you causing anything for them to be disturbed because  of and also, don’t push my buttons when we are alone or I might actually hex you”

   “You could be a little civilized too maybe” Malfoy muttered.

   “Come again.”

   “Why do you get to be all rude and mean Potter?”

Harry smirked. “Because of reasons we were not supposed to discuss”

 


	7. Cold Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from Draco's perspective. While it still in third person, it centers him. I wanted to clarify what is causing him to act unlike himself thats why.
> 
> Also, as suggested, I could not get a proofreader but I have checked it over for mistakes

Draco made his way to the room he had   selected. It was Nymphadora Tonks. He vaguely remembered the woman from the battle of Hogwarts. She had bubble-gum pink hair and was a relative of the House of Black. He knew that  her mother was a  blood traitor and one of the people who were spoken ill about at his former resident.  
  
The room further gave  insight that she had a lot of fondness for feminine colors like pink and cloud purple which ever were everywhere on  the walls, the bedsheets and frames of pictures that covered an entire wall. Even A light blue teddy bear lay in the corner of the bed.  
  
He scowled at his surroundings. He  could  not inhabit any of the rooms that weren't used in the recent years and at no point had Snape taken  refuge here.  
  
The  only two were the Werewolf's and  which Potter had already taken and the one he was in now. He could have  asked Potter to  remove the pictures and colors but that would be too unbearable of him.  
   
He snorted.  
  
He didn't even know the woman very well yet securing her memories was so important  for the savior.  Draco could almost picture Potter reviving  the flowers that were now bright and blooming in the shelves.  
  
It was only him that Potter couldn't  be such a hero towards. But then, he was used to being  treated differently  for who he was by now.  
  
The ancient  rooms consisted of sharp dark shades, steal furniture that seemed to chill them and portraits of the glowering ancestors of his mother's side.  
  
Dark arts paraphernalia, too, lay about everywhere, many Draco had gained familiarity with as death eaters used them often.  
  
In one of the rooms there had even been a picture of a muggle born's execution from medieval times. Presumably when Salazar Slytherin's rebel was on its peak. 

It was  an oil painting  of a raven haired boy whose head lay on the ground and his kneeling body displayed a stump at the place of his head. Vile  highborns laughed savagely.  
  
He  himself wasn't very fond of mudbloods. The words slipped out of his mouth  as casually as it always  had.  
  
Only the intensity of his contempt  and his will to express it had faded now that he no longer had the freedom to do so. Yet the  sight  of gored lowborns reminded him of when it had become a common sight for him, when it had become his _cause_. That, he had no wish to  recall.  
  
He approached his new bed removing  his robe  and was folding it when one of the cabinet doors opened and his robe flung  towards it. It closed  once the robe  hung neatly inside along with  auror robes, leather frock  coats and bootpants which were probably Nymphadora's.  
  
He gasped with shock despite the wardrobes in the manor worked similarly. But how long had  it been? Back in  the  manor. He  had to search  his memories to remember what it looked like.  
  
All the objects there were, linked to his ancestors or their devotion to the dark Lords. He only remembered faintly. 

He had been  shown  with  pride the wide  spreading orchards and rows and rows of rooms that were meant to house servants and everything in the manor that was to remind him of the power that would once be his and the high rank he was being prepared for.  
  
He  had  gazed, overwhelmed. As if he had never known before the importance of it, the realness of it. And upon his asking he had said that indeed he felt the  aura of  glory emmiting from all what he had been shown.  
  
He strongly believed that he did. That his being must be sensing it.  
  
He knew now that the  aura  had never truly touched him. That if, as his father had said, wealth called to who was worthy,  it had refused him.  
  
And his father who had so hopefully smiled at  him had...  
  
He  forced  his eyes shut as if to block a vision. The  one that this gesture  could not guard him against. And so he saw it again. His father  chained  in Azkaban. The aurors, the interrogation desk.  
  
He was still  his highborn privileged  self when he was brought into the  dark cell. As he noticed the  rough behavior, he blurted  out all he knew. Even the merest details slipped  out of him.  
  
The auror  leered and told him that he  wasn't  so clever as he thought.  And  then the questions  were showered. Ones he had no knowledge  of.

He expressed his inability to answer. The thin lips of the man curved into a smirk. The auror, he wasn't vexed, on the contrary, he seemed to love the opportunity.  
  
The desk in between them was pushed away leaving no barrier between him and the man. Silencing charms were placed. In a moment, he was pushed against the wall that was hidden in the dark.  
  
A firm hand closed on his neck lifting him off the  ground to be on the man's eye level.  And yet he hadn't gotten the idea. He mentioned his family name and how it was supposed to protect him.

   Merlin did he regret that.  
  
Ugly  words spat at him, tobacco infused breath exhaled on his face. The auror  leaned close to his ear. And almost politely, he whispered " _Crucio_ "  
  
Draco sprang from his bed, a scream leaving his throat before he could stop.  He eyes darted across  the room, weak broken breaths escaped him.  
  
He saw furniture with flowers carved on them. He  saw pictures of dead werewolf Remus Lupin, blood traitor Andromeda  Tonks and a blue haired infant smiling up at Nymphadora and Remus.  
  
He paused, his head dropped and he was suddenly very still. For a minute he stared at the pictures, his brain numb. He was almost giddy.

Giving one final look at  everything that gave him assurity, he settled back in his bed holding the warm blanket  close to his body.  
  
'Only a nightmare, yes. Its over, all over.' He assured himself. His surroundings suddenly felt friendly and soothing.  
  
He eyed the blue teddy bear that was smiling in the direction of the door. He felt  the urge to wrap his arms around it. Momentarily, he considered how pathetic  it was and then proceeded to pull it inside his covers and nestle against the fluffy fabric.  
  
Still shivering a little, a whimper  now and then escaping  his mouth, he drifted off to a deep dreamless  sleep that he could  thank his exhaustion for.

  
  
The next day he woke up it was because someone banged  a fist against  his caramel coloured door.  
  
He thought of reaching for  his wand to cast a tempus  but rolled his eyes instead. He still wore the prison rags he was so benevolently permitted  to  keep.  
  
He left his bed and pulled out his school robe  from the cabinet ane dawned it. He then opened the door leaving  Potter's fist in the air which was previously  hitting against the door. He dropped  it at once.  
  
   "What is it now Potter, we are supposed  to take a leave today?"  
  
Potter ignored him. He was already dressed in his school robes and thankfully, his glasses had returned. He looked too glamorous without them much too Draco' s annoyance  and distraction.  
  
   "Don't lock the door again" he said.  
  
   "Why Potter? Scared I will brew a world destroying potion with nailpolishes and perfumss in here" he sneered.  
  
Potter looked like someone had stolen his Shepherd's pie  but Draco knew not to push him too far.  
  
   "We are going to school, Malfoy"  
  
   "But Professor McGonagall  told us to--"  
    
   "I am going Malfoy, you can wait till I  come back, go to Gringotts then go to a shop and bring  you something to cook."  
  
   "I am coming"  
  
Potter stepped away from the door and Draco exited.  
  
   "Take the arm" Porter said extending it to him.  
    
   "What?"  
  
   "We are going  to apparate  Malfoy" Someone  had glued Potter's teeth together.  
  
Draco touched the arm and the two apparated  to the entrance of Hogwarts, Draco almost stumbling over Potter before he was blocked by a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Potter snapped it away at once. "I would let you know Malfoy, we missed the breakfast for you were far too lazy to open the door on time."  
  


   "Then why the hell are we here?"


	8. Theories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking that for now I will continue from Draco's perspective because it fits better and also helps with character development.

"Then what are we here for, Potter?" Draco asked irritably.

But Potter chose to not answer and walked in. Draco had no choice but to follow which he did gritting his teeth. He wanted to ask where they were going but another unanswered question would be too humiliating so he walked on hoping his attempts at trying to match Potter’s pace and not running along weren’t too obvious.

Only when they were close by did Draco realize that they were headed to the office. Potter said the password as if it was not special at all to have this kind of information.

He explained to the headmistress why they had arrived at school despite being advised otherwise. It was also made known to them that Draco would be following the Gryffindor timetable from this day onwards so that he would not be left unsupervised.

Potter had groaned and muttered something that wasn’t meant to be heard by Professor McGonagall or him. It was safe to say he hated to have him around but Draco was at least relived he wouldn't be left with the Slytherin to pick on him.

When they exited the office, Potter began to walk swiftly across the corridors again leaving Draco to keep up and wondering where they were headed to this time.

He decided instead of being left behind to search for him in the enormous castle, he should ask.

   "Where are we going Potter?"

   "Library, first lesson is free on Tuesdays"

That meant he didn’t necessarily have to be around Potter then--or wait, they were meant to be along at all times lest Draco be a traitorous bastard again.

He had no time to roll his eyes as Potter wasn't the least bit interested in keeping the other along. Draco was pretty much running now, over his dignity, he imagined.

   "Potter, listen" He yelled only increasing his speed to make the other do so. "Are the mudblood and the Weasel going to be--"  
  
Draco was stopped by a voiceless _immobulus_ before he realized his mistake. Potter turned around casting a glare that promised murder.

Even if Draco wasn’t very scared of what Potter might do him in this state, he started to panic at once about a shelter he would lose for the pathetic action of his.

Potter took quick but stiff stepps to him seizing him by the robe. He did it in a manner that his knuckles were driven tightly in Draco’s collar bone because of it.

He discarded the previous spell shortly before pushing Draco against the brick wall of the corridor.

Draco barely concealed his need to struggle. Potter had a physical advantage, he had the brood and firm built of an auror he was once going to be while Draco was slender and had nothing impressive in the name of muscular strength. Potter had also grown quite taller than him over the last two years so there was no way he was escaping this but if even if he managed to he was unarmed and currently seeking refuge in the furious boy’s house.

How did he always manage to push all the wrong buttons?  
  
   "Potter I...it slipped... I didn’t mean to"  
  
   "Slipped? That perhaps it did but you meant it Malfoy, meant it like anything" Potter’s eyes bore into him sharp and hateful, he could burn draco with the fury. "Malfoy don’t you ever insult my friends again or I swear you will wish the aurors had dragged you into a dementor’s cage instead."

Potter said the threat calmly but Draco could easily sense the danger in the voice, he had stressed on every word, his grip tightening on Draco as he spoke.

Potter pulled him back and jerked him into the wall releasing Draco as he did. His head smacked against the wall, a stinging pain shooting through him and then it burned.

His eyes were watery at the rough treatment, more at his helplessness, it was all just too similar to a scene from back in the holding cell and it crumbled his belief that Potter couldn’t ever be as horrible as the aurors, he wasn’t suppose to be, he was a saviour.

But it was Draco's fault too right? Wisdom was in apologizing, not because he felt that he was at fault but because he could not afford to go to Azkaban. For now however he would just leave it to this.

Potter had already disappeared, thankfully he knew that he had to go to the library. 

When he finally arrived, Potter was leaning against the entrance of the library obviously waiting for him. As he saw Draco approach he entered briefly acknowledging Madam Pince and heading for the section that contained all the curriculum related books. Between two shelves at a table for four he spotted Granger and Weasely sitting next to each other. 

Granger smiled and waved an arm at Potter signalling him to come over but her hand dropped when her eyes fell on Draco. She only stared curiously but Weasely questioned straight away.

   “Why the hell is Malfoy with you?”

Potter advanced at them and took the seat opposite the couple leaving Draco to stand at a distance. 

   “Professor McGonagall said that he will follow the Gryffindor timetable from now onwards and stay with us all the time” Potter rolled his eyes and randomly picked a book from the pile that rested next to Granger occupying himself quickly.

The couple stared at Draco, Weasely glaring and Granger seeming to wait. Neither invited him to sit of course so he hesitated while walking forth, the only seat left was with Potter so he didn’t have to decide where he was sitting. Which he did hoping the attention would be diverted. 

They stared for a while and then Granger picked up a book again and began explaining Ronald about the Confusing Concoction and Weasely began to look like he had been given a heavy dose of it.

Professor Slughorn had asked the students to learn about it and they would be marked on brewing it next potions which he didn’t know any more when it would be.

He himself knew nothing about it and with Snape no longer there to give him full marks on whatever mess of a potion he made, he would have to learn, he couldn’t use a wand but he wondered if he would be allowed to make potions. Either way revising theory and methods of making it would be necessary. 

After a while, he was entirely forgotten, even Weasely had given up on glancing at him once in a while as he pretended to concentrate. All Potter had done was dragging his chair a little away to gain distance from Draco and hadn't looked up from the book again. It was making him both bored and impatient. Draco knew he wouldn’t be welcomed to join a conversation but the silence was way too much.

Then, as if Weasely had understood and been so kind as to respond he discretely produced a chocolate frog from beneath the table which he had presumably been holding there all the while.

At the sight of food he remembered why he had come to school today. Potter had refused professor McGonagall’s offer to let them eat before leaving without any explanation and Draco was forced to leave without protesting.

He was licking his lips. Weasely was too busy trying to bring the frog to his mouth without getting caught.

Just as he was about to take a bite, Granger snapped the book down and shouted in a voice that made Draco cringe “You cannot eat in the library Ronald, it is against the rules”

Perhaps Madam Pince heard as well because she stood from her desk and swung a wand at them shrieking something that could easily be the death curse. All that happened was that the chocolate frog in Weasely’s hand turned into ashes.  
Draco felt miserable at food getting destroyed before his eyes like that.

   “Come on Mione’, Ginny woke us up and took me and Blaize for training at the crack of dawn and she wouldn't let us look at food let alone take a break and we missed the breakfast too.” Weasely protested. Draco felt strange at his former friend’s name being so casually used by an enemy.

Draco and Blaize had been set up together with a bunch of other purebloods to stay acquainted to but Blaize had never taken any interest in him. For he was a thousand times more interesting in Crabbe and Goyle, Draco had made attempts at interacting with him but their differences were always to many for conversations to last and now, he had seen Weasely and him act like buddies. He felt unfortunate.

   “Blaize? Has he been practising with you?” Potter asked.

   “We decided we would practise together since we are both going to try entering the Hogwarts team and Ginny invited herself to boss us around and shriek like a banshee whenever we made mistakes. She acts like she has already assumed the position of the captain”

   “Oh” was all Potter said. 

   “I am starving” Weasely cried.

   “Can’t be more than me, I haven’t eaten since I went to the Grimmauld place” 

Draco became alert at the chance of being fed. 

   “What?” It was Granger.

   “Professor McGonagall forgot there was no feed there”

   “And you are telling that now? You were late for the breakfast too Harry, Merlin” Granger quickly picked her wand and cast a glamour.  
She placed a purple beaded bag on the table and began fishing out things like wrapped fat round sandwiches, stick shaped potatoes and pastries. 

   “What? So you are breaking rules for him? That’s not fair” said Weasely.

   “You are eating when you are not sleeping Ron, Harry hasn't had anything since yesterday.”

   Potter ditched his book at once and took one of the round fat sandwiches and a brown liquid in a plastic cup and began eating. “How come do you happen to have an entire fast-food restaurant in your bag Mione?”

Fast food? What was that suppose to be? Sure enough something Muggle related as the mudblood had it.

   “Dad, Harry, he is paranoid about me getting cavities, he doesn’t let me eat anything that doesn’t taste horrible so I snuck junk food around in the bag” Granger smiled. 

    “So you break rules at home?” asked Weasely.

   “Um...”

   “You break rules when you want and stop others from it? You’re such a hypocrite” With that Weasely too began to eat. 

Draco could not help himself from looking hungrily over the meals on his table. He didn’t even care at this point if they were Muggle made or not. 

If Weasely or Potter had seen him they didn’t bother to ask him to join in. But Granger, bless merciful heart, noticed and realized that Draco was in the same starved states as Potter and pushed a plate of the narrow rectangular potatoes at him. 

Draco took it immediately but he remembered at once that the previous Muggle food that Potter had given him only let him chew on the gummy sweetness urging him to swallow it but it never dissolved in his mouth so he could not do it. 

These sticks had not been tried by anyone on the table yet so he couldn’t say for sure if they were meant to be swallowed or not and going for something else didn’t feel appropriate. The only option left asking,

Potter and Weasely would probably only insult Him, regarding Granger he still had has some hope.

  “Is it edible?” he asked. Three pairs of eyes shot up at him. Before his question passed as mockery he clarified “Potter gave me a Muggle sweet yesterday and it could not be swallowed....is this...?”

He was struggling to not sound friendly and rude at the same time. 

   “You gave a chewing gum Harry?” Weasely yelled in surprise. He probably knew about it since his mudblood girlfriend had given them to him before.

   “No I...I did but he drooled over it like he was doing right now and I didn’t have a choice”

   “Liar, I wasn’t drooling” Draco automatically felt the need to defend himself. 

   “He was” 

“Even if he was Harry, did you really... Are you becoming friends or something? Just yesterday you acted like you would hex him the second you leave and instead you chose to share sweets?”

   “No Ron, you are misunderstanding me...”

 Weasely had already left his seat as if he lost his appetite. “I think will just go practice Quiditch some more” 

And with that Weasely left the library walking past a Madam Pince who was madly glowering at them. 

   “So you didn’t drool huh? How about you leave this food then and sit here not drooling?” Potter snapped at Draco.

   “He didn’t even revise anything” Granger said worriedly.

  “He wasn’t doing so anyways”

   “Hey umm, Harry should we like, talk about the problem now, I doubt we'll ever get a lot of privacy from Ron to discuss your issue” Granger leaned forth on the table and eyed Draco before turning to Potter for a response.

   Potter glanced at him and said “Yes go on, he won’t be a threat”

Why did they have to speak like Draco was not sitting among them?

   “I have done some research based on everything you described to me in the summer. Directly linked to what you said, there wasn’t actually anything so I looked up the magic of Horcruxes instead. People in the past have been known to make Horcruxes out of people. Mostly those in power basically, they could hire very skilled witches and wizards who were successful in becoming immortal. They used slaves instead of objects often. It turns out there are differences between trapping fragments of souls into living things and objects. People who’re made into Horcruxes become rather zombie-like after they grow old and their own souls die. They are controlled by the piece of soul in them which is neither a conscious being nor anything more than , say, a sleeping person. Until all parts of the soul come together, a whole being like us cannot exist. Voldemort lived in his body, putting it in simple words, like an outline of himself, he was complete but hollow that is why he was conscious while parts of his souls that were shapeless and untamed were not. This could cause those shapeless parts of souls to develope depending on the environment they were placed into. 

A ring for example would be like a possession to those who wore it and if anyone other than the maker of Horcruxes wore it, he would affect the ring according to how he was and Voldemort’s outline wouldn’t fit it anymore making depressions in himself or even reshaping the outline which would mean a change in character of Voldemort. 

When placed in an alive being however, the parts of the soul can ‘feed’ on its consciousness or devide it. With this it is able to stay aware of remaining in manner it can fit the outline. Which in your case means remaining like Voldemort. He was able to manipulate that into giving you visions and nightmares when came to know  about you being a horcrux. But before  that you were still subconsciously connected with him.”

Draco could swear that Granger could see invisible books hanging in the air before her. The information she gave however got him more curious. Why speak of Voldemort and Horcruxes after the war was over? It certainly meant something. And didn’t Granger say something about Potter's issue. Draco decided he was paying attention.

   “Yes but what does that have to do with anything?” Potter asked.

   “I was getting to that. See Harry, Voldemort’s soul in Nagini made her stay connected to Voldemort at all times, she could feel what he did and could also get mentally affected by it. I believe you remember that she was Voldemort’s pet and was quite fond of him. She could feel a connection between them not only because of speaking the same language but because their souls were intertwined.

She was an animal though and had a very simple brain so she couldn't process that there was anything in her that didn't belong and she also knew Voldemort outside the connection.  
  
You on the hand lived without even knowing who Voldemort was, for a long time, and that you had a part of his soul inside you. Yet you shared consciousness with him and also had the tendency to feel him and get affected by him. And you were a human being hence naturally more connectable to Voldemort than snake.

Maybe you too gained some kind of a bond over the years. Besides being human he had other similarities with you like being an outcast and alone. He had experienced what you were and found you relatable. You even suffered a loss of parents like him

Voldemort wasn’t himself aware if a part of his soul lied in an enemy, it was just there doing everything without his reluctance or supervision. You can certainly consider there to be a bond.

This could all be summarized as that you and Tom had something more complicated than a rivalry. Something we never dwelled upon earlier."

   "Connection...with Voldemort" Potter mused. "And why are you calling him Tom Riddle now?"

   "I am not saying I am sure of anything Harry but you relate to Voldemort from the tome he lived with the identity of Tom Riddle, the boy who was alone and wanted someone. His mother had left him at an orphanage after his father abandoned  her so he never received nurturing by parents, even if for different reasons, neither did you.  
  
And you were close enough with him to be able to speak parseltongue like him, subconsciously you might just have found everything you lacked in each other."

   "Yes it could be and maybe that connection is somehow bringing me all the thoughts but if we always had it, why would it be reacting to me now after its dead and not when I was a Horcrux"

   "You could be sensing its loss now" Granger said. "There aren’t any other explanations Harry. You could have been receiving these thoughts from outside, you could be forced to see them but you aren’t, you are intentionally driving them. It is only that you _know_ that you are wrong to do so. You have enough control on your thoughts to prevent ones you truly don’t want"

Potter closed his eyes and dropped his head. Granger patiently stared at him.

Draco had no context whatsoever of what was being discussed. He could see that it was serious and that Potter was feeling something bad. He understood clearly that there might be a bond between him and Tom Riddle which was making him produce the wrong kind of thoughts.

Draco had questions of his own like did this mean Voldemort was back and was going to try to take over the world again?

He knew well enough that he couldn’t ask though.

   "I don’t... How could you be so sure Hermione? There could be something else, other reasons maybe " Potter said in disapproval.

   "Of course Harry, but I have been thinking about it. I have more to add to my theory. See, it isn’t only that you had similarities. Tom saw himself in you and could have started to expect that you would turn out like him. When Hagrid brought you to Hogwarts however, things started to change, differences started to appear.

You made friends and acted upon your good side. You could not live up to the expectations Tom was starting to have from you. You abandoned the connection Harry, that is when the attacks on you begin, surely there were others reasons for Voldemort to hurt you but Voldemort’s hatred for you could be fuelled by the betrayal that Tom felt. After all, he too never knew about the connection and yet felt it. 

Lets suppose if you had acted as if you had been different, been evil by nature and the Prophecy had never been made. You would have never been friends with us then and later when Voldemort would have come to know that you were a horecrux, you would have been like Nagini. She was an animal so her fondness was different in nature. But you and Voldemort could have been friends, born into the same circumstance, walking the same paths and arriving and the same destinations. Tom would have found a friend and you too but it didn't happen Harry.

We came into your life, you shared your parents beliefs of good and bad and had positive influences like Dumbledore in your life. Aren't these the same people you imagine hurting now? The connection has been touched again and Tom wants you to hate all those that prevented you to become like him. He wants you to hurt us all Harry and he is provoking you to do so"

Granger stopped and inhaled deeply realizing how long she had been speaking. Draco was overwhelmed by all what the mudblood had said but his first reaction was turning to Potter.

He had always wondered what it was like to be him. Most of the times, its the attention he focused on, occasionally, he would also wonder what it would feel like to know that the greatest evil alive had come back to kill him. Now he could see Potter tired than actually scared. Potter was never scared it looked because only tension was there, calculations Draco saw being made and Potter probably recalled too what the war and taken away from him last time because hints of gloominess appeared along.

Draco recalled back when Potter had been thought of as the heir of Slyrhein, the first time he was taken as evil. How he had so envied Potter but Potter simply did not enjoy others being scared of him or that he was associated with something bad. But after it was proved that the heir of Slyrhein was in fact Voldemort (which Draco didn't know until a lot afterwards) Potter was only spoken as a hero, haters hated and Draco was among them but Harry Potter was the boy who lived and who saved.

Draco could not bring himself to believe that the saviour had any dark shades.

None of his business it was but Draco was intrigued, he imagined the alternate reality that Granger had asked Potter to suppose for better understanding.

Maybe all it could have taken was him not becoming friends with Ronald Weasely. The connection could have been sensed by the Sorting Hat and he would be placed in Slytherin. There was no way then that Potter wouldn't obey the will of Voldemort.

Would it also mean that he would be friends with Draco? Draco had very confused feelings about the thought but certainly his father would want him to be friends with Potter and when Potter joined the dark side, he would have to suck up to him like Lucius did to Voldemort. Potter would be like a second in command to Voldemort and Draco would never be anything close to that.

He snapped out of the thought when he realised that this alternate picture wasn’t entirely different from reality. Potter was famous, Slytherin loved him and Draco had some kind of plans to settle his long rivalry with Potter so he wouldn’t have to fear being sent back to Azkaban.

That was of course was before Potter had refused him when Draco hadn't even properly made an offer. This truce they had made meant that Potter wouldn’t mock him about being sent to Azkaban and in return Draco would serve him like a houses elf.

_Draco Malfoy, treated like a house elf?_

He realized he was scowling very hard because both Granger and Potter turned grave faces towards him. He straightened his face at once hoping the attention would eventually be shifted but Potter instead said  
  
   "I think I have missed how I happen to have offended you Malfoy, would you care to say?"

Draco didn’t like the tone. His mind rushed to form a justification, simultaneously, he looked for words that would cause the least shed of dignity.

When he failed to come up with anything, Potter turned away, disgusted. "Probably too used to looking rotten"

They went back to conversing again but this time Draco was too busy mentally retaliating to pay attention.

Something was definitely off about Potter. Draco had expected that living together would have involved some kind of a cooperation which would somewhat change their manner of interaction. Draco turned out to be the only one molding himself now that Potter didn't tolerate him at all like he used to.

Draco used to  pick fight but Potter always ignored him until it was obligatory to respond. Now he took every opportunity to admonish him and hate on him. His hero complex did not even intervene when he reduce Draco to a servant.

Before he could stop himself his features had dawned another unpleasant expression. Potter spun around in his chair and spoke in voice that dripped with bitterness. "I think we should speak some other time Hermione, Malfoy clearly does not approve of our conversation and we wouldn’t dare trouble his lordly being with our unimportant concerns."

By the end he had leaned closer to Draco who shrunk to himself tensing slightly.

   "What are you thinking about?" Draco looked up at Granger taken by surprise by both bdimg spoken to and the softness in her voice.

An affront automatically formed in his brain for being addressed by a mudblood. But saying it was neither safe nor he wanted to blow up a chance of joining in the conversation.

Part of him  still insisted against it but he was too desperate to stop. "I.." He trained his eyes on the table. "Potter does seem like he has changed. I mean he feels more... insensitive now"

   "Huh? I was never insensitive Malfoy, if it is the way I talk to you that you are speaking on the base of, don’t. It is specifically because I hate you"

When Draco had spoken, he had started neutrally though concern had seeped into his voice by the end but Potter was simply oblivious to it.

   "Honestly, he isn’t wrong Harry" Said Granger, for a split second, displaying sympathy to Draco.

   "He is _Malfoy_ , Hermione" Potter had probably broken his teeth grinding them as he spoke Draco’s name. "Why is me hating him unlike me? And we aren’t even sure if this theory of yours in true or not."

Draco felt the need to justify his statement even though it meant more humiliation. "No it is not unlike him" so he was addressing Granger. "He has never bothered picking fights with me earlier when I used to. He never bothered now he reacts to me twice as horribly"

It sounded like a complain which even it is was Draco was quiet alright keeping to himself. And he was complaining to a mudblood how his enemy was rude to him.

Lucius would have disowned him for this alone but he didn't have to worry about it. Binding ties was useful for him, not to mention he had no friends left what so ever and Granger was the least horrible of the trio.

   "This, Harry, isn't like you at all" Granger stated.

   "I would have taught him a good lesson earlier but if I was stupid enough not to, it doesn’t mean I have to continue being so" Potter snapped turning his face away when Madam Pince glared at him.

   "You just proved his point Harry, you accepted that you were different then and wrongly so. It means you have changed and changed negatively." Said Granger, sadness coating her voice.

Potter shut his eyes and sighed as if to calm himself down and then said "I am sorry Hermione. You might just be right. If I were like this back in the beginning, who knows I would have even made the wrong choices.  
  
This shouldn’t be, w-whatever this is, is making me so...it needs to stop"

   "We will stop it Harry, we will never let you get affected, I promise" Granger softened so quickly, the warmth in her voice almost made Draco add her to the list of things he envied Potter for.  
  
Potter turned to Draco, for the first time, his eyes lacking the iciness. There was what? Exhaustion instead? Maybe pity as well and Draco grew impatient to know the meaning of it. Potter turned back.

   "I though it was over Hermione. I so desperately wanted it to be over so we could just live together normally, happily. I am tired now"

Granger took his arm. "As if I didn’t Harry. I just wanted to stay close to you and Ron. The way we were never allowed to for very long but .... your thoughts Harry, have they worsened, improved? Anything?" She appeared to beg for a good news but Potter only bowed his head.

   "It is becoming worse by the moment, Mione" he said. "I fear I might lose control one day"

   "No Harry, its not winning so easily, whatever it is, bothering you" Granger assured. "Nothing has happened yet, we aren’t even sure if any of this is true. Maybe if you were here with us, we could keep you positive and not let this connection take over you, if it exists"

For this they had Draco to blame. Potter didn’t bother to remind him though, he didn’t  
look at him again.

   "You know, I should have asked Voldemort out instead of killing him. He would have killed you all and I would have ended up becoming his lover" Potter smiled.

   "Uhm? You saw him in the chamber of secrets right? Was he any good?" Granger joined the joke too.

   "Not bad honestly, come to think of it, not at all"

And they laughed. Even Granger didn’t care about Madam Pince puffing up angrily. Draco found it amusing how they manage to lighten up such depressing moods.

They just concluded that Voldemort might be back and is manipulating Potter into harming all those he loved and this is how they react.

It somehow felt correct though, the positive approach. Draco decided there were many things about his new company that he knew nothing about. Things he should not find fascinating.

Like how he shouldn't have been contributing to a mudblood’s theory? Yes exactly.

The laughter died down until only smiles were left which quickly melted into a miserable silence. There was moisture in Granger’s eyes and Potter seemed to reveal sarcasm behind the joke.

So we're they laughing over hopelessness?

   "Hell with my life" Potter said and stood up realizing they were almost fifteen minutes late to Charms.

Draco got up too following them to their classes. He had to borrow a spare book as Slytherin didn’t have Charms on Tuesdays.

Potter did not speak to him the entire day, not even when Draco made attempts to. With Granger though he had made quiet some progress, they even exchanged a word every now and then during classes. She didn't mind the stares and whispered from othets and Weasely’s questioning looks weren't her concern either.

If not bad, this was certainly a peculiar day.


	9. The real Confrontation

By the end of that day Draco had come to understand well how the rest of his days were going to be. He wouldn't be spoken to and he was most certainly not welcome to join conversations. Once Potter had joked and the trio was laughing, Draco was too absorbed in listening that he didn't realize he had chuckled along. Upon noticing they became quiet at once. The Weasel glared, Granger bit her lip and Potter who was still ignoring him did nothing. Draco made sure he did not repeat the mistake.

He wished that Potter would be alone with him during the school. His company was most definitely not enjoyable or even close but since being by himself wasn’t the option, he would prefer one heroic Gryffindor than three.

When Draco checked, only Ancient Runes on Monday and double Arithmancy on Wednesday were classes in which the Weasel wouldn’t be with them. This was according to the trio’s shared time table which was highlighted to explain which classes were common for the three, two or none of them. Granger had has allowed him to see it.

He realised quickly that she would be the least of a problem. In fact, if Draco wasn’t suppose to hate her for her blood status he would have befriended her for she was the only person who seemed to speak to him without the intention of insulting him. He knew by the end of the day that she was greatly intrigued by the concept or Arithmancy which he liked as well and couldn’t help trying to peak at the related book she was reading, Draco avoided the obvious fact that it was an attempt at starting a conversation because he only spoke when a teacher specifically addressed him. He had almost succeeded but Weasley had given him such a murderous look he simply backed off. By the end of the day however, Granger had smiled slightly and nodded him farewell when she came to see them odd. The Weasel thankfully hadn't been there.

Draco hated how a little gesture made him hopeful when he shouldn’t have been trying to befriend any of them in the first place. ...But why? Part of him had questioned. Because of blood status, because of being at Potter’s side during war?

Ugh yes of course. She was a mudblood and Potter was an enemy and being in his good books was for personal benefit. But...Draco hated these moments of confusion so like always before ending on the wrong conclusion he snapped himself out of them. It did cross him that , rationally speaking, being a major part in Potter’s victory had earned Granger respect and admiration and she wasn’t tortured or hated by the ministry, not to mention she had a house to live in and parents who were neither jailed nor wanted criminals. Well, most people were better than him in that case but if blood status mattered, should it not be other wise? And of what value was blood status if it held no authority to affect these circumstances? Draco’s head was spinning.

—Shut the hell up Draco—He did so easily by flooding his mind with images of his parents from when they held their dignity and pride high and were looking sternly at him. It was enough, always enough for whenever he was getting out of line.

The school was over and Granger had left. Draco was about to take the arm he was offered but Potter dropped it when he spotted a raven haired figure approaching the entrance of the castle. It was Damian Black, the boy who had befriended Potter in Potions. 

The only things Potter had done actively today, other than looking miserable and sighimg every minute, it was questioning people about the whereabouts of the black family’s heir who apparently had made quite a number of people familiar with him. None knew where he was though, he had left in the evening yesterday was absent today, until now that was.

   “Damian!” Potter exclaimed sounding very cheerful than he had the entire day.

   “Oh hi Harry, I see you are leaving already.” He smiled. Draco had noticed he smiled a lot and did it rather charmingly. He had to admit the boy was extra ordinary in looks even if nowhere near exceeding him in that aspect. His blue eyes had a hint of green to them and seemed to own the potential of bearing deep into another's. His face was angular and the bridge of his nose was long an his lips were full and pink. The look was overall muscular and the slight tan on his pale skin made both light and shadow defined on his features.  
Draco didn’t enjoy competition.

   “I was supposed to take you to the Grimmauld Place remember?"

  “Of course Harry. I told Professor that there was some important Durmstrang business I needed to finish. I had promised George to deliver some new inventions to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He didn’t want to leave Hogwarts until his parents come back so I volunteered” Black explained.

   “How did youth manage to become friend with so many people in the matter of a day?” Potter asked.

   “I believe I am a likable fellow” Black grinned. (Or grinned further as he never stopped)

   “Huh, try being likable to Hermione and socialize with her, she is coming to the Grimmald Place...”

   “In the evening, yes. I plan on coming along. Hermione was cool with it since Ron isn’t coming. Ginny is taking him and Blaize for Quiditch practice. She insisted I come as well but I managed to convince her for today”

Potter blinked. “How did you manage that again?”

   “How difficult is it to make friends Harry?”

    “I uh well...just be there okay?”

    “Yeah Harry, oh and Hermione told me about your, you know your...problem. I will see if I can be of any help. I did a little research myself when I came to know and came by some things Hermione won’t find in her resources. I could tell you about it. Alone if you may”

“She told you?” Potter said blankly.

Black nodded. Potter looked lost for a moment before turning to Draco to ask for privacy.

   “Not here. It’s quiet serious and lengthy to discuss”

   “Oh ok, stay a little longer then if you don’t even want Hermione to know, I had to show you the diary and Sirius’s room anyway.”

   “Yes actually I was hoping for something like that.  Bye then, I will see you in the evening” And with that Black disappeared inside Hogwarts and Potter stared at him dumbfounded like earlier.

   “She told him...” Potter mused  to himself.

Then he turned around, took Draco’s hand and apparated. It was Gringotts where they ended up. Potter exchanged some of his wizard currency with Muggle’s ones and walked Draco into a shop near the Grimmauld Place. They bought all the necessary supplies and loads of snacks and ready to eat food items. Also a few bathroom articles, a first-aid kit and some stationary was also purchased.

(All the whole with Draco gawking at the automatic doors, the woman who furiously pushed buttons on a board and changed what was on a screen with the use of a hand held ...sliding object? And flinched every time a mechanical voice surrounded announcing things)

When they finally arrived to the Grimmauld Place Potter handed Draco the grocery bags and said. “I am not hungry yet you can heat up cup noodles if you are. It will say on the packaging what they they are and what to do with them"

   “Later maybe”

   “Right, wait for me in the living room then” Potter said and advanced at the stairs on his way to leave before Draco even registered what he had said.

They would be speaking then. Draco found himself curious and rather too eager for his liking but went to the living room anyway.

Entrances to both their rooms were in the living room so Draco began to eye Potter’s door. He made guesses as to what they were to discuss. The sudden change in Pptter's temperamentwas better, draco didn't like Potter toxic when Draco could not return the attitude. Progress could only be good. He had already established that changing with Potter came with benefits right? Eagerness was valid. Yet it somehow felt like he was so derived of company he could actually compromise with an enemy for it.

No, this wasn’t time for confusions. Draco sat on a grey couch  near the hearth and waited while Potter had gone to change and observed the Gothic old but polished and shimmering rosewood furniture and glass structures that were elegant and eerie at the same time. It a reminder him of the Slytherin Common room. There was an abundance of green and dark shades and silver was everywhere on the frames of the portraits of the members of the Black family and macabre paintings.

Least difficult, he decided would be adjusting to live here.

Potter emerged from his room then  and Draco’s eyes shot at him. He saw immediately that Potter was once again mournful and down. He walked forth and Sat opposite Draco momentarily letting his gaze wander over to the empty fireplace and sighed.

   “So?” Draco said. Potter finally looked at him. “What is it, Potter?”

His question referred to be being called there but Draco had sounded like he was asking for his well-being. He seemed to settle for either. He was curious about it too now, he didn’t want Potter to be so dejected while they spoke. The discourteous side of him was more suited if they were going to bring up their history or anything of the nature.

Potter brushed a fringe of his wet hair out of his eye and said “Malloy, you heard everything Hermione said?”

That was an unexpected questions. Draco blinked.

   “I did”

His tone seemed far from appropriate to use with rivals but he was more focused on the conversation.

    “Then you know what is happening, you might as well understand then that it is bad and not only for me” There was a hint of urgency in his voice, at the same time he seemed to be on the verge of tears. It distracted Draco a little, he has never seen the other weak before.

   “Granger said you are connected with you-know-who and that it was so before you or him knew it and it is causing you to think about hurting...people?” by the end Draco was very uncertain. While Granger had filled them on how Horcruxes worked and how they could be connected to Potter’s problem, the problem itself had been scarcely discussed. Probably because they had done that earlier.

   “The connection, it feels like something is merging with my consciousness, it feels  like it will...” He rolled his eyes then. Perhaps he had not intended to rant emotionally in front of Draco.

Draco frowned. Let’s establish that through out his attempts, Draco knew at the back of his mind that he was eager to gain the company he had previously been rejected now that no other option was available and he had the opportunity and very wrongly was this so. This  wasn’t correct and he wasn’t ever to question that. But on the surface, the keenness did manage to get the better of him.

With that said, if Potter could start a conversation, Draco might just be willing to babble emotionally as most of him was agreed to it.

“Potter, does it hurt you?” Draco asked relieved that he had sounded only curious.

Potter drew his eyebrows together. He was likely expecting Draco to be concerned only  with what it had to do with him but seeing now that Draco was interested, he decided to open up.

   “Not really, it doesn’t hurt me. Physically, not at all, other that a little pain at the back of the head and a strange nausea that might just be my imagination, no. But mentally, it is torturing me with the urge to picture my friends and mum and dad and people in general hurt and some times the need is too intense to resist. Other times, it disgusts me  to have such needs. I feel more and more  like fantasizing and acting them out even and the urge grows stronger no matter I try to block the thoughts or let them fill my brain. I don’t now if it will actually lead me to lose control one day but I am afraid I am progressing in the wrong direction. And if I do, I will most likely target strangers first and people I least care about or hate”

Potter was obviously referring to Draco and he expected the understanding of that. He gave Potter the look that he did and also demanded a further explanation. Potter was warning him about himself. Warning Draco or of a danger.

“Isn't that good Potter. Your loved ones will be the least in trouble if anything happens and you can hurt however you don't like without guilt”

“No, no one should get hurt because of me. I have had enough of that”

Draco was the only person Potter actively hated. Even if he wasn't being referred to directly, Draco’s safety was very much being taken in concern. Now this hero complex, he was familiar with.

“Do you mean it Potter?” Draco asked, for some reason, cautiously.

Potter looked away and pinched the bridge of his nose right underneath his glasses.

   “Honestly, I don’t really care about hurting anyone I don't know or like. I thought about it, even tried but no. But it is because this thing has driven be to that, if it wasn’t there I would most certainly care so I am doing what I would have... if I wasn’t turning evil. I need to stop hating you if you don't want to be the first to get pummelled to death”

Instead of bothering Draco, the statement rather  delighted him. He had the proper excuse for trying to b at peace even with the likes of Potter. A more logical part of him observed that he was short of options and if the safety of his life relied on his relationship with Potter, he needed to be worried.

    “And what do we need to do for that?”

Potter hesitated. “Our history Malfoy, we need to sort it and get it out of the way.”

And to do that, address it which neither of them seemed to want to do. Draco pursed his lips and exhaled. He hushed the part of him that was still protesting and made the move.

What use was Potter being a Gryffindor if Draco had to do it? At least until it came to be about the sixth year, they could talk about their petty rivalry.

   “You remember we met at Madam Malkin’s then, you probably didn’t get a good impression seeing what happened later.”

Potter looked relieved at the conversation starting on a lighter note. “You reminded me of my cousin Dudley” Potter said neutrally.

   “What was he like?”

   “His favourite pastime was punching me in the ribs”

Draco smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. Potter narrowed his eyes mistaking the action for finding the assaults funny. He clarified. “Did I seem like someone who would punch you in ribs?”

Draco remembered himself to be slim and very average in height, there was no way he could have given that expression.

   “No, rather someone who would mock and hate on others. You insulted Hagrid who had rescued me from a miserable life just hours ago and were easily negative about things. Not my kind at all.”

   “Negative, I guess I was and so you felt spiteful towards me?”

   “No but that you were  certainly someone to avoid. Hating people wasn’t always too easy for me”

“And is it now?” Draco quickly realized the mistake of reminding whatever had made the other sorrowful. He added “Later on in the train, you turned me down because I insulted Weasley”

“Yes, not that I would have stood it for anyone, Ron was the first friend I ever made and he was not a bad person. I wouldn’t leave him for the likes of you. What I don’t understand is, why would you bother wanting to be friends with me despite our obvious differences”

Draco dropped his gaze. Now it was getting difficult. “See...father had me acquainted to Blaize, Theodore, Vincent and Gregory. It meant I was suppose to stay in their circle only. Over the months before the first year of Hogwarts, we were all set to meet  at each other's houses and I realised that none of us could ever be any closer than acquaintances. Theodore always wanted to talk about every thing ancient an historical and Vincent and Gregory were dopes. Blaize seemed to be more interesting. He had the bad guy persona and a no none sense attitude but he still liked Quiditch and other games. He was easily the best of them and he wasn't of a bad nature . The only problem was, He had no intention what so ever of becoming friends with anyone and I felt that he didn’t like me a lot. I even tried starting talks with him but he never continued, he even didn’t reply me at times. The only real friend he ever had was Pansy whom he would put up with and act like....like how Granger is with you and Weasley, yes exactly that”

He stopped and breathed biting his lips in reluctance.

    “Go on Malfoy”

   “When I saw you at Madam Malkin’s. I decided I would try becoming friends with ...you. I mean friends as in the sense of you and Weasley and Granger so I approached you then. I didn’t know who you were but before school, I was told to befriend a certain Harry Potter and retrieve information from you and update father and mother about every thing going on with you so I would have tried to to impress you anyway. Father didn’t tell me why, only focused on that you were important and famous, they stressed on it a lot.

At Madam Malkin, my only objective was finding a friend and when I spoke to you, you seemed casual and not nerdy or too witless, you felt like someone who ....could be a good friend and you turned out to be one even though not mine and I always hated that”  
Draco not his tongue eagerly waiting for the response at the same time dreading it.

   “And for some reason you assumed that insulting people and showing off your blood status would impress me” Potter snorted.

He had overlooked all what seemed so complicated and important to Draco. It left him rather unsatisfied even though an unlikable response would have been worse.

   “It worked with everyone I met before you”

   “By everyone, do you mean your pureblood acquaintances?”

   “...Yes” Draco admitted. “That was the only method I knew to do it.”

“And it didn’t work, so you decided to hate me for the rest of the years instead”

“I never found the kind of a friend I wanted. You were my only hope of not being stuck with cronies forever and it was gone but you and your friends, you were so happy together and you cared for each other and every thing and all I could do was try getting Blaize’s attention and hate myself for it afterwards. And everyone else in the school adored you and spoke of you like a hero and later a saviour. You had everything I had ever wanted and all I had was only their because of my blood status”

Potter’s chest was swelling, Draco had sounded accusing and Potter clearly had something strong as a defence.

    “You were simply too bad of a person and you know well that I do not like such people and what is it with you and this stupid craze for attention?”

    “Everyone likes attention” Draco snapped.

    “You had everyone gawking and you and treating you like some noble God and you acted as if it wasn’t even a big deal. All you had to do for it was lie in a cot and weep while the entire incident happened”

   “I am honestly glad I didn’t become friends with you Malfoy. Is fame really all you ever cared about? Did you never ever pay attention to anything beyond it?”

Draco looked back questioningly.

   “I became famous because a murderous maniac entered my house, killed my parents and orphaned me right before my eyes. Why would I ever pretend to like it? The Dursleys always told me that my father was a jobless drunkard who died with my mother in a car crash. They thought of me as a walking curse. I had to live in a bloody cabinet beneath a staircase. Do you think ‘fame’ would be anything I would ever care about? And do you think being on equal levels and opposite ends of the greatest evil in existence something I was granted with? Voldemort was plotting on killing me with his gang of death eaters when I was only a first year. All those days I knew that he could cone back and kill me before I could even realize. I knew that my friends could have died only for being by my side and that God forsaken war, if my parents weren’t enough, took all I could ever hold dear. I had Dumbledore to guide me, they took him away. Sirius was the only family I ever had, he died at games hands of your sadistic aunt, Remus and Nymphadora died, Fred died, a mother lost her son because me, Teddy was orphaned because of me, Hogwarts was ruins, all so that I could survive a bloody war, would you live peacefully knowing that? My entire childhood was taken away playing this hero and all you decide to notice is the popularity it brings? Would you go through it all for fame? Is it really worth it Malfoy? Or were actually so ignorant to never notice?”  
There was frail redness in Potter’s eyes, he panted furiously, holding Draco by a glare, demanding and intense and with some of that disgust from earlier.

Draco’s eyes were bulged, his mouth slight agape and a horror-struck expression on his face that he was too overwhelmed to control. All this while when he had dreamt of being in Potter’ shoes, he had imagined the attention on him, the admiration not all what Potter had told him. He felt pathetic, no the fame was never worth it and he would never want to be Potter if he wasn’t....ignorant. he was not close to capable for being Potter.

He did not have the reply which Potter was waiting for, he licked his dry lips and trained his gaze into the contents of a crystal that was glowing bright green on a shelf.

   “Have nothing to say Malfoy? Oh how would you?” Potter had almost changed the peaceful nature of the conversation but he seemed have recalled the purpose of it and recovered. “Anyhow, since you know now, we better move on. That is enough from me. It’s your turn.” 

   “What?”

   “I can understand that some people can be a real pain in the arse and you happen to be one of them but why the hell would be go for taking Voldemort’s side and that hideous looking mark?”

   “I did not dislike taking it or working by his side Potter, but that did not have any effect what so ever on whether I was to do it or not. I was always told I was to become a death eater and serve you-know-who. But as I said, I wanted to do it. That was the closest I could get to becoming something like you. I was jealous of your fame, I admit okay? But that was how things were, people feared Voldemort so much people didn’t use his name even when he wasn’t around, they trembled Potter, I wanted to make them feel the same way about me. I wanted them to regret admiring you and it mattered to me. That was all I had in my mind when I got that mark. You-know-who’s intention was purifying the wizarding world and I was a blood supremacist so agreeing with his cause was easy enough but...”

   “Yeah?”

   “I....” ‘traitor’ his father’s voice hissed in his head. He shifted uncomfortably picturing the older Malfoy’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “I can’t...I don’t want to....” Draco stiffened his fingers and worried his lower lip. The situation suddenly felt too odd, too unreal....telling Potter a thing like this so he would what? Sympathize him? No, Malfoys don’t....what was he thinking all long?

   “And why can’t you, Malfoy?” He needed to make this work dammit. He suddenly felt as if he would panic, he couldn’t even believe they had come so far with the confessions. Damn the fact that it mostly consisted of Potter doing all the important talk.

   “Potter have you just forgotten that we are not suppose to be sitting together speaking like this? It's not how things are suppose to be, you are Harry Potter and I am a Malfoy” he snapped.

Potter’s first thought was to loose control altogether, his jaw moved but he stopped, he closed his eyes and sighed. “Will you explain to me exactly how things are ‘suppose’ to be? For Muggles, we are not suppose to exist, for me, I shouldn’t have been dealing with a man who split souls and murdered, there are so many things that are suppose to be or at least how we believe they are, but is that how things are Malfoy? Have I won a war because I was suppose to whatever the hell that even means. If I had been cowardly to simply back down because little boys weren’t suppose to do things I did, our life conditions would’ve been totally different.

We shouldn’t be speaking to each other like this, I couldn’t agree more but there are a number of things including Voldemort taking over my brain and my growing desire to hurt. Be a slytherin towards the situation, if that works for you and bloody well get done with it”

   “About war then...”

   “No, leave the war for now. Tell me what who complexes are causing you such difficulty to speak?”

   “Potter, being a Malfoy has responsibilities and certain regulations, one of which is not confronting enemies for peace and changing views on things like the dark side and blood supremacy and we must not appear vulnerable and weak and you are asking me to break all thee rules”

   “These regulations don’t fit the situations in which you are at someone else’s house, can't even throw a racial slur without being attacked and are no longer living the luxuries the Malfoys should. Hell, youbaare just as strong as a muggle right now l.Your attempts at preservation of your inherited etiquette is entirely to go in vain plus why would you to do that anyway?”

   “Because I have been taught to and you can’t just discard all that has been a part of your upbringing. You can’t understand”

    “Answer me then, if all what you have believed is true, why hasn’t your side won?”

   “Potter that’s not...You are taking things too fast, you are... maybe after seeing things...I might just know right from wrong but it’s against every thing I have ever learned. I can’t get over them suddenly”

   “But do you want to?”

And Draco was silent again. He thought and then said

   “I will have to”

Potter placed an elbow over his knee an let his head rest over his hand. He was analysing, probably forming a strategy and must have had some level of understanding when he spoke next because Draco wasn’t hurled questions at the answers of which were complicated.

“As I said earlier, You should be a slytherin now, not a Malfoy” Potter said carefully.

Draco cocked an eyebrow.

   “It might be your ego or your beliefs are buried too deep into you for you to be able to question them. But you are also a slytherin Malfoy, what you should do in this situation is, mouth an acceptable opinion despite what ever is on the inside and find yourself a place within everything that is now. Forgiveness then acceptance and slowly a better status should be your just swallow up that pride and keep it inside."

Yes, very slytherin that was and something that would comparatively harm his ego less. But Potter was asking for a lie. Draco to suck up to Potter and his friends and hold onto his reality inwardly. How he was suppose to have done it years ago. Hmm...his reality, the one of the Malfoys and purebloods and you know—Voldemort’s.

Like a Slytherin, he did look for a practical benefit in holding onto his now unpopular opinions. And did he believe them? If for once, instead of his teachings, he looked for the answers in his experiences and in what he truly felt but never admitted to have, the answer was ...no. he didn’t like slaughter of innocents, he didn’t like violence, he had just wanted a stable society with his status high and admired.

Basing the truce in a lie meant he would lose any chances of redemption he had. And Draco decided he needed it because he couldn’t live with only the company of beliefs that were....rotten to the core.

Draco felt a rush of strength in his body as he formed the words. He may not believe them entirely just yet but it was a daring move and it brought a sense of freedom along. As if it was now that he was truly old enough to make his decisions.

And Draco was determined, not particularly to become a different person but to change where he stood. He would never be privileged again and he wouldn’t get to be superior but he could slowly take steps to having basic dignity again.

He was a Malfoy, when Malfoys had the grace and wealth, he was respected, when the Malfoys collapsed, so did he. What ever happened to the Malfoys actually controlled Draco’s status in society. And this was time that the Malfoy name was of no use to him.

With his mind already painting pictures of a guilty and shameful self, and thoughts of confronting his father giving him sleepless nights he finally said, this time looking at Potter in the eyes. “No, I want you to convince me why my side was wrong”

Potter who had patiently waited through the long pause looked surprised, slightly amused even. “So you really want to change then Malfoy?”

“Yes, earlier was different now, to survive I have to and l...I do want to, really”

 


	10. Muggle Objects and A Muggle Born

   “You do believe already that Voldemort is wrong, don’t you? It isn’t really loyality to him that is holding you back right?” Harry asked.

True. Draco nodded.

   “It is obedience of the manner of Malfoys”

   “Yes”

   “But you can’t obviously follow the old rules now, to start off with, you are no longer in the position to and the Malfoys sided with Voldemort so by not approving off his cause or his ways to achieve it, you have already broken a law  and Malfoy, don’t you see, you are the only person in your family who cares about anymore. Like, are Malfoys suppose to be treated like common criminals locked up in jail for life times? Or are they supposed to be on the run with werewolves, let’s be honest, the likes of Greyback don’t help people out of sympathy and your mother was in no condition to offer him anything decen…”

   “I got the point Potter you don’t have to be so…”

   “You get the picture right? The circumstances are not normal for you people, they are severe. In such situations, you prioritize doing what is the best for you not follow traditions plus tell me Malfoy, do you really believe in things they taught you? I mean you sure do but did you ever try to come up with reasons, practical ones as to why your parents would, say, look down upon muggle borns?

Is there any real benefit in having wizards and witches as parents? You get to know more about the school you’re going to, maybe have connections in the ministry or whatever but that is not close to a reason for such hatred. It is just an old believe, you know, a superstition.

It’s not like being a pureblood makes you more fortunate or wiser or anything, you can compare Hermione with Neville or Ron for that matter, blood status has absolute no impact any of those things. Did you never think about it?”

   “Not really, I was suppose to absorb what I was being taught not question it. My father, he influenced me greatly, and he said very nasty things about blood traitors, I feared even accidently giving the impression of being one so no, I didn’t”

   “That...is like saying you never used your brain but your father is not around anymore and you will never have to look him in the eye again so why don’t you use the freedom. You have people to consult, more experience and freedom, so just get rid of your fear of questioning and do it, think about it, try to reason with yourself and accept conclusions that you come to."

It was amusing, how he was suddenly being treated as a complex being. Sure, he had had the luxuries and comforts but he had been the one to take orders, to obey and then his world had turned upside down. His father was in Azkaban and aurors spat insults at him telling him how despicable he was to have had the beliefs that he did. 

   And he had dared not argue,  like before, he had accepted all he was told, he had no defense after all, and no strong faith to want to defend his teachings either. He was adapted to that, as much as he despised the lack of control, he had become comfortable with it. It would never change, right?

Draco obeying commands, but commanders changed, then the orders and now it was all suddenly behind him and he was given options.

He had paid some price for being the death eater filth that he was, had he not? If only someone could say that for he did not trust himself with such judgment and after everything, not any kind of judgment at all. In a sense, then, Potter granted the little wish.

   “I know Malfoy, changes aren’t easy, especially now that you have gone back and forth between things and its nothing like earlier. I will give you the time you want, you don’t have to tell me or even decide but consider things with your _own_ mind if you really want to make progress.”

   “I will”

Potter understood. That, like his abrupt change of nature, had come off as unexpected. Potter, if not infused with the conscience of you-know-who, would have sympathized with him despite their rivalry but that he understood, Draco didn’t know what to make of it. Was he glad? Regretful of their past? Indifferent?

_Don’t bother the poor brain so much._

   “Can I ask you something Malfoy? Not really related but…”

   “Yes?”

   “When they took you for interrogation and…got rough, what was going on inside you?”

Draco looked up as if to search for context. There was only curiosity in the other’s face. “Well, I-I wasn’t used to anything like it. They would hit me hoping I would reveal things when I had nothing to tell them and if I accepted their accusations, they would lock me up and Azkaban would have been as bad.  There was no way they could have stopped, what they were doing was legal and could pass as standard procedure even though they clearly took it personally. One of them had lost his family because of me, the rest only looked at me as You-know-who’s accomplice, I could not ever convince them that I had no options or that  I didn’t play an important part in his plan, the specifics just didn’t matter. I was death eater and nothing else.

   It felt unfair, I was not a good person, fine, but the punishment was just disproportionate to whatever I did and I was helpless against it. It was perhaps the first reality check of my life. Life isn’t fair.”

   “Yes, yes it’s not, that came to me a lot earlier, did they leave marks?”

   “What?”

   “When they tried to squeeze information out of you, did they leave scars or marks or anything?”

   “Um, yeah, a number of them actually but why do you ask?”

   “I …goddamn it. Nothing, I don’t want to know, forget it” Potter looked away.

   “You would like it, wouldn’t you? It is that thing, the connection”

Potter pursed his lips and closed his eyes. He nodded. Something _was_ wrong with Potter after all. Draco wondered why he was the first to acknowledge the evidence, then again, if Potter ever had any personally hateful feelings towards someone it was you-know-who or him. The differences were enormous but there were very few people who Potter disliked and he was on the list and now that Voldemort was no more it was only him. Could it mean something?

   “There was a muggle machine, a cursed artifact from Mr.Weasley’s department” He said.

Potter blinked at the statement which came out of the blue. “It had this small metal rod with a spiral carving and it rotated when a trigger of some sorts was pressed with a finger”

   “Do you mean a drill?” Potter asked.

Draco shrugged.

   “Something you would use like this…?” Potter made a gesture of a finger pressing a trigger while the rest of the hand gripped at something.

   “Yes”

   “A drill then, what of it?”

   “The auors activated it manually but it could float in the air. They had me turn to the wall while it hovered on my back. Maybe it wrote something, I don’t know but it felt like it.”

   “Malfoy?”

   “There was your regular cruciatus but they liked to use more objects than  magic, had more impact or it made a better sight, I don’t know and there was what the auror called a crutch, they hit my lower legs with it. They said I could use the thing later. What did that mean?”

   “Malfoy why would you tell it to me?”

   “You would like to hear right? If you fantasize about hurting people, you might like hearing about it, wouldn’t you?”

   “Stop it Malfoy, you make it sound like I am mentally sick” And then Potter probably realized that Draco wasn’t wrong and that his remark did apply to him because he shook his head disapprovingly.   

   “What did they mean by the way? What is the original function of that thing? The _drills_ aren’t actually suppose to write on flesh right? So the _crutch_ too I guess…”

   “The drills are suppose to put little holes in walls or wood, it is construction equipment. And the crutch is used by a disabled person as a walking aid”

   “Right, I get the joke then” Draco said and even managed a small laugh but he wasn’t _that_ broken. He dreaded the muggle objects and from no angle found it funny.

 Before the conversation could continue there was a knock on the door. Potter got up to answer even though Draco had assumed that domestic works like these would be more appropriate for him. Would Potter change that since they had a proper truce now? Draco would ask.

Draco went downstairs and was there before Potter invited the guests in. Granger walked in first eyeing everything around them and making a comment about how the place was when she had visited it last time. Potter in response picked a lock of her impossibly bushy hair leaving a messy mesh in between.

   Hermione, they look messier than earlier. Maybe use a brush before they bundle together in a permanent bun.”

Draco was inclined to agree though he voiced it not.

   “Shut up Harry”

   “Where is Damian?”

   “I am here”

Potter and Granger had to step away from the entrance as a cardboard box was levitated inside followed by a sweaty Damian Black who was panting loudly. “I swear she made me do it alone on purpose”

   “Maybe” Granger shrugged playfully.

   “What is that?” Potter asked.

   “A television set.”

   “Really?”

   “I figured you wouldn’t have much to do around here”

   “But how are you going to make it work. The signals and the cable and everything?”

   “We duplicated the systems and methods of operation from a house in the neighborhood. It will work on their setup but with your controls”

   “God, thanks Mione. Where did you find it?”

   “Conjured it”

   “You conjured a television set?”

   “Yup”

   “Well that’s our Mione’.”

“What does this thing do and why is it so freaking heavy?” Black asked the question Draco himself was curious about.

   “An electronic device that receives television signals and broadcasts visual images of stationary or moving objects on a screen”

Black squinted to express lack of understanding.

   “You basically watch stuff on it” Potter explained giving Granger a that’s-how-you-do-it look.

   “Umm”

   “See, people in the muggle world communicate to the world by the means of electronic devices. With the help of a television, you can get news reports, status of politics, important incidents or weather predictions and there are things for entertainment such as dramas, movies and music that you can watch on it. It works like a magical picture but it doesn’t address you, Muggles record something and make the recording visible on screen. That’s how it works”

When Black nodded seeming to have understood a lot better with Potter’s explanation, Potter looked at Granger victoriously and she rolled her eyes.

   “Right, Make it work, I want to see” Black demanded excitedly.

   “Let’s set it up upstairs in the living room” Potter said.

They headed for the stairs and Draco followed. When his eyes met with Granger she nodded at him an acknowledgement.

   “Draco”

   “…G-Granger” Draco stammered momentarily confused whether to imitate her actions of using the first name or not. He decided against it but afterwards wondered it could have meant some kind of progress.

She walked behind while Black and Potter carried the box with hands instead of wands. In curiosity, Draco followed as well.

Once they had taken it upstairs they removed a table with gothic decorations and moved it in front of the couch. Draco made a mental note that he would find another piece of furniture for the objects. He liked the touch they gave to the place. He had the job of looking after the house anyway.

Granger and Potter were able to remove a rectangular plastic covering that stuck the lids of the box together with the manhandling of it and discarding the torn material that had taken along some of the cardboard on the floor. (Draco tiredly noted he would have to take care of that as well)

They lifted another box like object that, as Black described, was heavy with thick silver borders on the horizontal sides of its face and a grey reflective screen in the middle, the back side had a smaller front and was only dark grey with small complicated details in the lower behind. They placed it on the table and stepped back.

   “It’s not doing any of what you said Harry” Black whined childishly, he in the meanwhile had seated himself on the couch comfortably and was looking anticipative.   

   “Patience Damian”

Granger muttered an alien spell before explaining briefly how she had already done the spellwork for what was suppose to appear and be set up and modestly explained that she had modified the spells to accommodate to their needs as spells often weren’t specifically suited when Muggle objects were involved.

After the incantation of peculiar syllables, a small white board appeared in the walls and colored rubber ropes were connected to the _television_ and joined by a thicker back rope that had three metal strips peaking out of a black plastic round-ish thing which was lying next to the white board.

   “Put in the plug Mione”

Granger picked up the rounish thing which was apparently called a ‘plug’ and gently drove it into the holes in the white board. Draco looked at the screen to search for any differences. Only a small red light flashed in the corner of the screen. Potter pressed a circle next to the light and there was suddenly movement on the screen. Simultaneously, it made a strange sound.

Black leaned forward excitedly and Draco moved a little closer to get a better view. The screen flashed and suddenly a round green pitch with hundreds of audiences appeared. Loud cheering filled the room, suddenness of which made Draco grimace.

Men in white costumes were chasing and kicking at what looked something like a Quaffle giving the idea that it was a sport of some kind. A commentator was speaking enthusiastically over the playing men. Potter picked a smaller Muggle device and pressed on to it. A rectangular box was removed the color of and left with half its pigment when Harry stopped and along with that, the voices of the people were decreased. 

   “You can do that?” Black asked, beaming.

   “Yup and what you see on the screen was a football game.” Potter said and walked over to sit with the Black. “It’s a sport. You see that net?” Potter pointed to the screen at a steel structure with a net in the middle. “That is a goal, the person in front of it is a goal keeper and he protects the goal and stops the ball from hitting it, like a keeper protects the hoops from Quaffles. And the men are like the chasers except that they use their feet and kick the ball around and the game is played on the ground as Muggles do not fly.”

   “Oh.”

“Muggles are quiet passionate about it but there is a lot more. You can come around another time and I will tell you. But right now, Hermione, take a seat.”

Granger did, in a wooden chair and so did Draco next to her hoping that it wasn’t very odd now.  She glanced but was comfortable.

   “Has there been anything  new? I know we talked recently but, now that Damian knows, his input might help.”

“Nothing new Harry but I stand by what  I said earlier. I don’t know, I just feel something nowadays that I did first when we went searching for the Horcruxes, the dread, the alertness, and the presence of danger. Ever since that day Harry, in the vacations when we went to Fred’s delayed funeral,  I could see you were affected, everyone was but I saw something strange in your face, there was melancholy, regret but something else that I couldn’t quite put a finger on, did you Harry? Did you feel anything too?”  Granger asked.

   “Fred’s funeral? I…” Potter began but was cut short by Black.

   “But wait, Why would be sure that it is something related to the Horcruxes? It could be anything else, I mean there is plenty of dark magic out there and a lot that can be used to drive a person to be bad so why the Horecruxes, especially now that they are all destroyed?”

   “Do you know any kind of dark magic that can make people construct fantasies and like them? As in, not force thoughts into the brain but do something that causes a person to come up with fantasies?”

   “Not one I know of but…”

“Damian, Its Voldemort, he lived in Harry, he was once a part of who Harry is and his liking and disliking were as his as Harry’s. Back then, he himself did not lust for specifically hurting Harry’s loved one to hurt Harry. He does so now.”

   “But he left Harry when he died during the battle, didn’t he? You said it yourself”

   “Left yes, but he was with Harry for all times for seventeen years of his life. Souls can blend, can bond. The smallest part, even an alive particle of a person can do a lot when infused in someone’s brain. I have read a few histories of people use as Horecruxes. They could telepathically communicate through their brains and even hurt one another while at a distance. There has never been a case of  human horecruxes coming back to life even though most human Horecruxes were removed because murder-involving dark magic was used upon them. You are the first one,Harry, to be alive after the Horecrux was removed from you. We might just have no information on this what so ever.”

   “Right”

   “Harry I…”

   “You know, Hermione, let’s not talk about it for a while. I want to show Damian some things I promised him, I will tell you about it but for now, accompany Malfoy. We have tried talking a few things out and it might just work so …Damian”

Black stood up. “We will be around” He mouthed a wordless ‘have fun’ to Granger.

He and Potter ascended from the stairs and went to the upper story. Things were about to get awkward.

   “So ah” Granger turned to face him.

Draco attempted to meet her eyes but he knew that confrontations didn’t work very well for him.

   “How are things with you? Harry must have not been very nice for the reasons”

   “Yeah … not really”

   “Look at me”

   “Granger I…”

   “Please, I hate these formal communication methods,  I know there’ll mostly be them once I get a job in the ministry but you just call me Hermione”

   “I might get a job in the ministry too then we will have reasons for using formal terms”

   “Death Eaters in the ministry? With Voldemort in charge, why the hell not but since that is more, I would suggest you don’t look forward to a job at all”

   “Granger you…has Voldemort crept into everyone now?”

   “No Draco, people wouldn’t need a Voldemort in them to hate the likes of death eaters”

   “So you hate me then?”

   “No I don’t. I know things were complicated for you and you did not deserve what the ministry did to you but everyone at Hogwarts, we saw the death eaters kill our comrades, loved ones even and you opened the gates for them, invited them in. Maybe we hold a grudge, we are all humans after all”

   “A grudge?”

   “Yeah and I told you not to call me Granger”

   “… _Hermione”_  Draco paused to examine the alien word form on his tongue. “You said that you knew things were complicated, you knew I was both scared and reluctant but I had no choice—”

   “And technically that labels you innocent. It really does Draco, it was cowardice that drove you and your programming as a follower, everyone is not Harry Potter, all the others are more human and I have come to be in terms with that”

   “War changes people” Draco said finally gaining some comfort. His comment was on Granger’s attitude and she perhaps understood that.

   “Immensely” She said. “But you don’t have to think I hate you. I don’t but to amend relations or say build them up, we can put the war aside. The jungles law applies when there is war after all, we are all little beasts running for our lives hoping we don’t get crumpled under the foot of the bigger guys. I know how that feels.”

   “You don’t sound like yourself”

   “I do, I just don’t sound like someone I was before being exposed to things. We all maintain our discipline and composure, look like we are strong and selfless to others. In front of you, in front of you now, I have no shame in confessing that at one point I wanted to be a coward and run off to Australia to my parents and obliviate myself so there was no Hogwarts, no such thing as magic and no dying friends. I wanted it so badly, to just leave and all the selflessness I had always displayed no longer had any strong clutches on me. But I didn’t let that break me, I fought, anyone present that day during the battle of Hogwarts fought and won, you Malfoy and the slytherins, they lost it, they did what the weakness inside them told them to and you were the most important among them hence the grudge and the disgust”

   “So I am now a symbol of weakness and cowardice for the people.”

   “Yes of something inside them they don’t want to believe exists, unconsciously of course, they don’t understand it, but there can be more to you, you can change that and it’s possible.  I am willing to give you a chance, for others, you will have to earn back dignity if you have the ambition”

   “…And what if I don’t have the ambition?” Draco had no idea what it meant.

   “Then practice living the way you do now. After this year since there will be no job for you, you can just become close to Harry so he lets you hide in this place till the end. That _is_ an option”

   “Hermione, you are a living reality check. I am certain I never took you for one”

   “Oh no, for most of these times, I will be all nice and motherly and forgive you everything before the war and tell you to be a better person. For right now, it was like telling a serial killer that I stole candy from a shop once. Not something you would be proud to tell your equals but to someone being human has driven me to think lowly of, I wouldn’t care. You know, just a sneak peak to a moral-less naked being that every _human_ is that shows only when circumstances are such.”

   “We have all so grown up, amusing” Draco muttered.

   “Hey!” Granger got up suddenly as if she hadn’t lost character a moment ago. “I have heard Draco, that you do the cooking here, do you know how to do that?”

   “Not really, we didn’t eat something since we got back home, we were actually in middle of a conversation when you two arrived”

   “Oh. You can look at the television for it, there are cooking shows that instruct you. Besides for the basic things, I can help you”

   “I would…”

   “Come on, we need to kill time until Damian and Harry are done."

There were a thousand thoughts in Draco’s mind. He had just wanted acquaintance with Granger and it turned out to be _this_. He understood that human psychology was behind people’s hatred for him, it was simple. The other bits, that people could be _human_  before him like they couldn’t be before others’ because he was not part of society, he was lowly, he had not made it out of the pit people had managed to escape and that their true vile nature could be naked before him, the thought was frightening.

Draco got up preparing for cooking lessons from the new friend who was currently no longer speaking of creepy philosophies and like someone more familiar to Draco. He spent some lighthearted time coming to know what was to be done with raw food to make it edible.


	11. Potter's Dirty little Secret (to be)

Harry had left Malfoy with Hermione without thinking if it was the right thing to do. However that would go, Malfoy would at least not be rude with Hermione. He was past that.

They walked three stories up quietly then Damian complained that he couldn’t wait and dashed the rest of the way. Harry took his time. When he arrived on the last floor Damian had thrown himself against the side of a sofa and was breathing noisily.

   “What was the hurry Damian?”

   “We are going to Sirius’s room right? I want to see it”

   “Yeah, I did not clean it or anything yet but once you take a look, I will tidy it up a little”

   “Okay come on” He said and jumped up. “Which one is it?”

   “There” Harry located. “The right door. The other one is your father’s”

   “Oh, I wonder how they came here everyday”

   “Dad wrote in the diary that Sirius would turn into his animagus form and paw him and Remus until they agreed to carry him up like that.”

Damian giggled. “What is my dad’s room like?”

   “Laden with dark art objects, some letters from death eaters and a typical Slytherin environment”

Damian rolled his eyes. “We will go to Sirius’s”

And so they did. Harry opened the door to reveal  the red walls of the master bedroom. He let Damian enter first. Unlike previously , the Slytherin walked slowly. He was amused, lost more like but Harry could see something profoundly tragic.

A train of unwelcomed thoughts passed through his head. The focus that moment had been defending against Lucius Malfoy, Harry must not have been looking when the curse hit Sirius. Harry had screamed, panicked, a pang of contempt and agony had hit him in the chest but the feeling of denial was strong, too strong for him to lose composure and grieve.

The toxic voice of Bellatrix Lestrange still rang through his ears, icy and spiked, her telltale method of announcing that she had killed Sirius Black, her almost childish skipping around, Harry could not stand it. He was himself then, despite being a Horecrux, he was entirely himself when he cast the cruciatus curse at her but even then he could not bring himself to produce the hatred and the will of hurting it required—not even when he was deprived from the last of his family.

_He wondered if he did now. He was curious if he did now._

   “That is your father, right?”

   “I am sorry what?” Harry blinked then noticed that they had walked toward the end of the room.

Damian was looking at the wall that was hidden completely by pictures.  “Oh, yes-yes he is. I am sorry I… a memory came back, a bad one actually.”

   “What memory Harry?”

   “The time Sirius died. I was there, right beside him and I couldn’t do anything , not even avenge him properly.”

   “Don’t blame yourself Harry. You are not the kind to avenge, it was that death eater. Her death should have been worse, more painful.”

   “I tried to crucio her but it didn’t work”

   “How could it Harry? You are not so full of contempt. Maybe you _are_ too noble for your own good but in the end of the day, you are a hero and you saved the world right?”

   “That has changed, Damian, like how I am now, I doubt I would have bothered saving the world”  

   “We will fix things Harry, we will find a way”

Harry smiled. He turned from the wall and went to pick up the cassette player.  He  turned it on and ‘The Prophet Song’ from ‘A Night at the Opera’ played.

_‘A man who cried for a love gone stale  
And ice cold hearts of charity bare’_

Harry turned it off. “Sirius must have stopped it in the middle”

   “Is this a Muggle device?”

   “Yes, Sirius liked to make a display of his liking for Muggle’s things to offend his parents. When my mom had introduced rock music to dad, the marauders had all started listening. Dad was more into Heavy Metal and Thrash Metal, Sirius shared his preferences of Classical Rock and Shock Rock with Remus. The diary said so”

 Harry remembered than that the wizarding  world though had had many good instrument players, there hadn’t ever particularly been extraordinary Lyrics involving songs nor exactly the genres that Muggles had.

   “You probably don’t know what I mean”

   “Yeah not really”

   “I started listening to that genre of music  when I read the diary, you can keep the cassette player and check out the songs, you might like them”

   “I will Harry” Damian looked away. “You understand these things, don’t you? The muggle music, these people, you knew the dead and you know the living. It is all so deeply connected to you, the people in the pictures and important events related to them. I am just a stranger to it. I can’t connect to any of this the way you do and they did. I so feel like an outsider”

   “Maybe Damian, you are a stranger but believe me, understanding wars and losses of these kind, you won’t enjoy it. It’s better for me in fact, that you don’t. You know back while the war was going on” Harry went to sit on the dusty mattress “I was trying so desperately to hold on to things, I wanted to be near friends, strangers, everyone. I wanted to save lives, anyone who had chances of living should get to live, that had become my motto.

    I would  talk to Remus and Sirius, even Nymphadora, McGonagall and Hagrid, I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, before anything bad happened. I would go to the burrow,  talk to Arthur, Charlie and Bill when they were around for the wedding, Molly, I made that woman my mother and Ginny, I knew how she felt about me but until then I had never displayed any emotions for her, truth be told, I never had any but at the time I knew that we would all be in graves soon, I wanted to experience a relationship, I wanted to give love and support and receive it and live as much as I could before  death. I was so sure that I would die, I was actually preparing for it.

   “When it never came though , when I defeated Voldemort and saw life ahead of me, I didn’t exactly feel happy, I was blank, maybe disappointed even. I was so SO sure that I would die, I had made peace with it. I had started imaging what death would be like, how life would end, what would come after it, it felt like betrayal when it never came.

   Everyone around me, people I was supposed to be happy in front of, they started to recover, improve and sympathize and admire me over what had happened. And me? I just hunted for the thrill of being driven to the edge again, I didn’t want to move on, I needed that desperation. Yet slowly, things were changing, people were not mourning so sorrowfully as before, even George had started to joke a bit, and the war was going to be forgotten. It was driving me paranoid.

   But you Damian, you have felt loss too, in the strangest manner possible. You never knew the person you lost, all your life, you dreamt of him, imagined a life with him, maybe prepared for it as well, yet it never came. What you lost that day when Sirius died, was not Sirius himself, but hope, of the betterment that would have come, of the freedom you would have felt. It was suddenly a fact that none would ever be reality.

   I felt that too Damian, you may not know these people on the walls or feel their loss, but I share things with you that you might not even understand, that is why Damian, you were a stranger just days ago and someone utterly important now.”

   “Oh Harry”

Damian walked over to Harry and sat along with him leaning into his chest. Harry placed an arm around his back. He knew that Damian was weeping silently, but he did not speak or move. They were both still.

Harry decided then that the comfort he was receiving was just too good to let go of. It wasn’t healthy, if it was as Harry imagined, if they were both suffering. Harry wanted it to last, he wanted that they don’t recover and _this_ maintains whatever this was even though it wasn’t exactly wishing well for another.

They sat for a while and stared wordlessly then finally Harry sighed.

   “I think we should go, Malfoy and Mione are alone downstairs, I am not sure how that would have progressed”

   “Yeah Harry, that boy, Draco Malfoy, I don’t have very pleasant feelings about him you know, he was a death eater and… I don’t know, I just don’t like him.”

   “I don’t either, not exactly. He and I used to be enemies before the war, fighting over petty things and all but he isn’t like earlier. During and after the war, things haven’t been very polite with him either. He was just a high school bully who could have not even been that if , if I hadn’t rejected his friendship back in our first year.”

  “You did that?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t really expect there to be any such results, he was not nice when he met Ron but he could have changed very easily, see, he wanted friends, he didn’t have any. Now that it is all history, maybe with  time, I might not dislike him all that much”

   “That is good Harry, just be cautious”

**Draco’s Perspective**

When Potter walked in on Draco listening to Gran—Hermione explaining him something about chopping vegetables without mutilating himself, he did not comment on it. Black, though, had an odd reaction. He looked at Hermione a very long moment before she pursed her lips and gave a silent promise of explanation afterwards.

 

Granger, Potter and Black shared another few minutes of light-hearted conversations mostly about Weasely not being as frequently around as he usually was and was spending rather a lot of time with Blaize nowadays. Draco felt weirdly stung at how the tanned Slytherin found company in the likes of the redhead and not him when he had wanted it, otherwise he stayed quite the entire while and studied Damian Black.

 

Draco undoubtedly found him somewhat peculiar. It had certainly not taken him very long to adapt so comfortably into a new atmosphere, nor had it taken him time to socialize. Potter already treated him like a close friend and that exchange with Hermione in the kitchen indicated that they were close enough to _demand explanations_ or whatever that had meant. 

 

And he was overly cheerful, too much of that. Draco didn’t find his obsession with a dead relative he had never even met quite normal either. He was, however, very Slytherin because Draco recognized the tactics of judging what kind of people would appreciate it and then acting as if he belonged with the particular people. Gryffindors were definitely the kind to welcome friends and now that the Weasely had found other company, he could easily slither into Potter’s mini gang of friends.

 

That was all Draco had observed when Granger and Black stood up. Only Granger said the good-byes and Black escorted her to the door and closed it for her. Draco frowned a little  when he came back sat next to Potter and placed his feet on the table in their front.

 

Before Draco could be put in the awkward situation, Potter asked “Should he stay or not? You said you wanted to speak alone”

 

Black looked directly at Draco for the first time, the usual annoying grin disappeared. Draco could have sworn that his eyes narrowed for a moment. “Let him stay” He said. “Things will be less complicated if there isn’t anything to hide from your housemate”

 

   “Sit down Malfoy” And Draco did still staring at Black and wondering if he had imagined things or not.

 

   “Thing is, we should try convincing Hermione that things are fine with you or at least it isn’t the connection with Voldemort that is causing you to hallucinate.”

 

   “Hallucinate? I am not Hallucinating Damian, only fantasizing and why should we do that?”

 

   “Because it is true Harry and the solution I am going to suggest isn’t really the kind your friends would approve of. Tom Riddle did bond with you, the sick human that Voldemort once was is a deep part of your being and is emerging because of some reason. If Hermione tried giving you any reasons as to why it is happening now and never happened when you first showed distinction between yours and Tom’s personalities, they are likely not true. Until you had a strong belief about yourself, your motives and your friends, Tom was unable to force himself upon you, but something has has happened Harry, something that made you question or even oppose your morals, anything like that which weakened your barriers from Tom and he gained control of your thoughts.  It doesn’t have to involve any external influences directly, maybe an inner conflict of some kind”

 

   “No Damian, there was self-doubt surely and fear but I never thought that I was wrong. You know, you sound like Tom is alive, like an actual person among us, is it really—”

 

   “That is the whole point Harry, Tom is an entire person separate from you. Maybe not all that separate since the beginning but I assume you know that you blocked him out when you proved to be a good person. He is as alive as you are and it is his presence itself that is growing stronger every day. Don’t you understand Harry? I don’t think you do, there is another soul living inside your body, it was just powerless earlier but it isn’t any more. You will hallucinate soon if you aren’t doing so already and then eventually play out your fantasies because the barrier is broken, you are blending in with Tom. Who knows you might hear his voice or even see him. The only good thing is that he won’t take over body directly, it is your soul that  have he will influence.”

 

   “And you are sure that is the only reason why I basically have thoughts? Honestly, it sounds like an exaggeration to me. I mean I am only thinking about doing bad things and probably have a change of attitude but that doesn’t have to mean that Tom Riddle lives in me.”

 

   “I have had my reasons to think so alright and how else can you explain it?”

 

   “Well uh…”

 

   “I do hope it is just something else Harry, but we have enough reasons to worry”

 

   “Yes okay” Potter said bowing his head disappointedly.

 

   “So how exactly did it begin then?”

 

   “Hmm”

 

   “The thoughts I mean”

 

   “Probably since Fred’s funeral I guess, Hermione was right about that lot. I was re-living some horrid moments, it seemed like it was just a trauma that is supposed to take time to finish, you know, memories and nightmares that haunt you after big disasters. I would think of my friends and think that if something had happened to them during war, what would it have looked like, still I thought I was just scared and hadn’t realized yet they were all safe and the war was over but then I realized that I was not scared, it wasn’t even the aspect of losing my friends that was the center point of the thoughts, it was the scenarios of torture and gore that were. And I couldn’t get them out of my head and I wasn’t even mildly disturbed by them, it was very much the opposite.”

  

  “Growing on to you, that is what I meant”

   “Well anyhow, I became a part of the thoughts then, the others became subject of the pain I inflicted. There was rape, torture, death and I was doing it all. When I am around people,  not only my friends but anyone, I have this very faint urge to do things to them, very nasty things.”

 

   “It wouldn’t be so faint very soon Harry. That is what I actually wanted to talk to you about. You are bound to get consumed by your urge, you cannot and should not try to suppress it or it will affect both you and those around you”

 

Potter glanced at Draco.

 

   “What should I do then?” He asked.

 

   “Play them out, keep them satisfied and you will buy yourself a significant amount of time before getting to your friends”

 

   “Play them out? As in hurt people?”

 

   “You will have to because eventually you will end up losing control so it’s better if you use strangers for the time being and we can find a way to either kill Tom or at least remove him from you”

 

   “I am not doing that Damian, I can’t…”

 

   “You really don’t understand, do you? Let’s put it like this, in probably say a month or two, you will end up torturing your friends to death and you will go to crazy. You will start attacking strangers then and if there isn’t a way to stop you  then you alone will be the cause of mass destruction because it isn’t only a physical need, it is connected to your magic too, and no need to flatter yourself but you are fucking strong alright?”

 

   “But you aren’t even su—”

 

   “We have gone through that Harry” Black sounded a little impatient now. “You can be a Gryffindor and take the risk of waiting to see if you do anything or not but believe me it isn’t a good idea. Haven’t you ever heard of sacrificing for the greater good?”

 

   “Dumbledore”

 

   “Why, that’s rather Slytherin of him”

 

  “I did often wonder why he isn’t one.”

 

  “Yeah but the point is, go beat people up and rape’em or whatever and give me some time to come up with a solution”

 

   “And how will you find one?”

 

   “Read, there has to be some kind of a dark magic that can remove or transfer souls from a body. Wizards did that in the older times but their motive was leaving theirs and taking over another body to either commit crimes and frame the people they were in or do things that the other could and they couldn’t. There must be a method for this in the books and I have a library full of banished material in the Black Mansion, as soon as I find it, we can use the part where they leave bodies and instead of giving Tom another one, we will kill him or banish him into an object or a place he can’t escape from.”

 

   “Can you also find out why Tom is there is the first place when we already got rid of the Horecrux in me?”

 

   “I don’t know, in the past, they killed any human horecruxes there were and that was the only method deemed correct of destroying them. That probably was the only way of doing so or otherwise the Horecrux lives on, we can’t of course kill you now so we will just have to see if my plan works or not.”

 

   “If it doesn’t?”

 

   “Then I will move to the jungles of Africa or a location I should probably not disclose to you and hopefully the ministry will get rid of you or it will take you entire life time killing the rest of the population before finding me”

 

   “Bloody Slytherin”

 

Black frowned and pressed his lips together looking sideways to convey ‘that’s how things are’

 

   “But I still can’t go about harming anyone, if we use someone from Hogwarts, it might be risky, I know we can obliviate and heal the _person_ …and I still am human enough to not be able to hurt people I know”

 

   “I, uh, actually made an arrangement with Percy to allow us to borrow prisoners from Azkaban and return them afterwards”

 

   “You did what? Did he actually agree to it?”

 

  “I explained the situation in detail and he agreed to helping me, of course I had to get George involved too. They might visit one Percy gets time”

 

  “And it only took you a day to do all  the research, tell George then Percy and...Damian, you are no magician”

 

   “I…am”

 

   “Never mind the Muggle saying, how did you do all that in such a small time?”

 

   “I didn’t actually do any kind of research, I had read a lot about Horecruxes since there was news in the Prophet that Voldemort had those and I had helped George earlier so we are kind of friends and you know… that isn’t the point Harry”

 

“You are like another Hermione, just a bit… _Slytherin_ ”

 

“So I should bring you a prisoner then?”

 

“Yes”

 

“Well, It didn’t take you a lot of convincing”

 

“The greater good right?”

 

“It doesn’t affect you anymore if you are doing such things, you are changing, fast” Black said in a deep and lower tone.

 

  “Maybe”

 

  “Well, that’s all about it then. Who is Hannah Abbot?”

 

   “A Hufflepuff girl, why?”

 

Black tossed a heart shaped note at Potter. “You people at Hogwarts really are too friendly. Victor wouldn’t shut up about you guys.”

 

 “We are not, you are just getting a lot of attention for some reason”

 

And Black was grinning again.

 

 “Yeah, more than I would appreciate actually. Seamus, has been staring at me and Blaize told me to look out for Pansy. Back at Durmstrang, we weren’t allowed to date at all, so I could avoid these things but now…”

 

“Speaking of that by the way, they didn’t sort you with the rest of the first years when you were transferred right?”

 

“They gave me the liberty to do it in Headmistress’s office. I would have looked like a total fool huddled up with firsties”

 

 “That would have been fun to watch though.” Potter laughed.

 

“Piss off”

 

Draco was bored sitting idle, maybe he could use a little attention. “So…what exactly was the reason for making me sit through all of this?”

 

“When Damian brings the prisoners Malfoy, you won’t speak about it to anyone, not Hermione, not Professor McGonagall, no one” Potter said, the former humor gone. Draco could sense a threat.

 

“Right, you will, really do it then?”

 

“Malfoy…” Potter could not determine whether he wanted to justify to Draco or tell him off for addressing his personal matter. “I…will have to”

 

Draco nodded.

 

   “Hey uh, Harry” _Damn Black._ “Your friend, Ron, I am competing against him for the position of the Keeper for the upcoming Quiditch Match, we practiced together and he isn’t as nice as the rest of you, I think he is insecure or something”

 

   “Oh, so you play that good?”

 

   “Not to exaggerate or anything but back at Durmstrang, my team never lost a match”

 

 Potter scoffed. “Well I hope the deserving wins then, he is a very close friend you know, I can’t go against him even though currently he would prefer spending time with Blaize than me, let’s see about it. You should go now, it’s getting late”

 

   “Yes you are right.”

  

   “Malfoy, show him to the door will you, I am tired”

 

   “Wha..”

 

Black looked at Draco for the second time, this time smiling pleasantly. “Draco, is it?”

 

   “Yes” Draco looked away, he may have to act so politely around Potter, there were not obligations in Black’s case. “It is Malfoy to you”

 

   “Not so nice now are you?” 

 

Draco glared. Potter ignored it.

 

   “Come on”

 

Draco led Black down the stairs avoiding any eye contact and pointed out the door. “In case you forgot where it was”

 

   “Oh I didn’t, _Draco_ ” Black elongated the sound of _a_ in his name.

 

   “Makes it pointless for me to have to come then”  Draco turned to leave.

 

   “Listen Death eater scum,” Draco paused. “You better keep your distance from Harry Or if you don’t then make sure your intentions are clear”

 

 He wasn’t having this. Draco spun around and passed an icy look. _“Not so nice now, are you?”_ he imitated Blak. “If Potter has to look out for someone it is really not me. You however, I would warn him about you if he had  meant anything to me”

 

   “I told him I don’t like you already so I am not really showing a new color right now but keep the warning in mind or you might actually see one” He walked over to the door and converted back to his honeyed expression. “Bye Draco”

 

The sound of his name on Black’s tongue sounded terrible. If there was anything left of his former self, it was surfacing right now. Draco was fuming with rage. Damian Bloody Black.  How dare he?

 

Draco stomped back upstairs only to find Potter standing in the beginning of the stairs and smirking.

 

 


	12. Confessions and Dead Vines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So *capsuling* is suppose to be a method in which the auros can use some hand held containers to store criminals into locked 'extensions' and take them around while ensuring they don't escape. The reason Damian has one is because Percy holds a strong positions which was also helpful for the plan to work. 
> 
> Draco will be sent along with him so the process of getting criminals be explained and I want the cheeky snarky Draco back for some time.

Draco started. Potter had an impact now more than he ever did and that was saying something. Now, he let the panic show. He took a step back and gripped the newel of the stairs in a firm grip. In such a scenario, he could easily imagine him shoving Draco down.

   “So what do you think you just did down there?” Potter said with an alarming calm, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, a certain humor in his eyes. It was making Draco uncomfortable.

   “Didn’t you hear what he said?” Draco retorted. “He called me that hideous name and warned me to stay away from you like I can possess a threat to you while Professor McGonagall might be cleaning earwax from my wand right now” He finished in a small voice finding his argument weak.

   “And what is it that you protest against Malfoy? That you are not death eater scum or that you do not possess a threat  to me?”

   Draco gazed up and down the steps of the stairs, groping onto any words that could fit, ‘he didn’t want to hurt Potter’ was pathetic, the death eater part, he didn’t want to address it at all. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “You know I cannot hurt you Potter, reducing me to a muggle is bad enough, I don’t want to be a _crutch_ -using muggle next.”

   “Is that so Malfoy?” Potter descended down the stairs stopping only a step above Draco and seized him by the wrist. Draco stiffened, shuddering as Potter knelt down to his neck and exhaled silently at his ear. “How about a Muggle with both legs chopped off?” He whispered.

Draco jolted out of Potter’s grasp and slammed his back against the wall. “You can’t possibly do _that_ for messing with your friend.” He exclaimed staring wide-eyed.

   “No” Potter tilted his head, his voice dramatically low yet the words very careful. “I cannot. But yours is a  hurt pride Malfoy, while I deem you capable of nothing serious, you do anything remotely more than what you did today and I would reconsider my answer”

   “But I only spoke to him”

   “You didn’t, that is why I am also only speaking. I am just being careful Malfoy, despite everything, you are still death-eater-scum and while you are nothing on your own, you proved useful for your death eater friends last time and some of them are still out there”

He turned around went upstairs again, this time the deliberate and calculating pace of his actions changed back to a regular one. “Stay away from Damian, Malfoy, if you want to avoid fighting” He said looking over his shoulders.

   “And what about today?”

   “What of it?”

   “You said ‘anything remotely more than what I did today’, does that mean I can still talk back to him?” Draco asked with a tinge of hope but mostly wishing for a less threatening rejoinder.

“Yeah, sharpen your tongue for the next time, your witty comebacks are losing quality”

And he was gone.

After a silent thoughtless moment of simply staring into the direction in which he had left, Draco moved away from the wall and headed upstairs into the empty living room. The Muggle device lay on the table, it’s screen black but reflecting the outlines of the objects placed in its front. Draco cast a shadow on it as he crossed to his room but stopped midway.

He recalled the conclusion Potter and his cheeky new ally had come to yesterday. Prisoners from Azkaban were coming for Potter to nail and torment. Draco wanted to convince himself that it was for his own betterment, even if Potter wouldn’t erratically become a mindless monster and attack everything around him in the next few weeks, he would still change and the only one to know so was Damian Black who wouldn’t care about his safety.

Still, the process was _slowed_ down and it was only for the time being that Potter was content with hurting strangers. He would definitely want enemies next. Draco would have to go to Professor McGonagall if there was a rising threat for him. The more immediate problem was the criminals that were to come over.

Would there be death eaters too? What if Draco recognized them? How will they react to Draco being only a bystander when his place was with them? _Will one of them be his father?_

Draco swallowed. He felt like his stomach was in knots. It wasn’t concern for his father that bothered him so much. No, he couldn’t have brought himself to feel sympathy for the man if he tried. It was facing him and everything of his life that was associated with him that he would prefer taking the place of Potter’s victim over.

Talk to Potter. Straightly pleading him to exclude his father would  not work. He needed to do something else, anything that might buy him some compassion from the Potter.

 He turned back and headed in the direction of Potter’s room. Briefly, it occurred to him how befriending Potter had so become essential for him and how once, he was discreetly wishing for doing so.

Potter’s door was a polished dark caramel brown. He assumed the room was more masculine-looking than the one Draco had taken. He had originally wanted Regulus Black’s. He was true to their cause throughout his life and loyal to the purebloods, his room must reflect that. There was no undying faith in Draco’s heart but he would be more comfortable in a familiar environment.

He knocked and then opened the door before his entrance was approved. Potter’s room certainly was different, at once it could be recognized as a Gryffindor’s, the picture of the house’s symbol was right above the headboard. Anything else in the room however, did not necessarily go with it. The furniture was as dark as the one in Draco’s room though very plain with no floral carvings or decorations in the shelves. The off-white walls and the yellow and white lights contrasted with them to give the room a rather desolating feel.

   “What are you doing here?” Potter asked bored and distracted. He said the words like they were a formality to say. Leaning against the headboard and staring at the ceiling with his legs drawn up, he sat in the middle of the bed as if living itself was a formality.

   “You are looking miserable” Draco said.

   “Go and feel good about it then”

Draco walked forth and closed the door behind him. Potter didn’t move, only he stared at him, as he approached his bed. Draco moved slowly searching signs for disapproval on Potter’s face. There were none, he looked blank, yet the face felt like a translucent layer blanketing sorrow. 

   “What is it?” Draco asked.

   “Why do you care?”

   “I don’t know if I do but speaking would help and I have nothing better to do”

   “You remember I threatened you in the stairs hardly a minute ago.”

   “You did. We are not friends so why not? but I figured it would be better for me if we are—anything near it”

   “You are  being honest. Not like you really, but honesty has a charm. Sit down Malfoy”

And he did, near the corner of Potter’s bed. He didn’t put his feet up so he had to twist his back to face Potter.

“So what will you do? When Black brings you those criminals and they are all yours to harm, what do you feel about it?”

   “I can hardly stop thinking. I want to do it. I want to beat them down and fuck them senseless s. I would love to do it but then, I will hate myself. It’s like a need that is just irresistible, it’s just so good you can’t stop wanting but you  know it’s wrong and against everything, your morals, your conscience and yet…you are helpless.” Potter said.

 Draco’s eyes flashed with a king of a recognition. He looked away with a realization that he had things to say and that he shouldn’t be saying them.

He weighed his options, he had been told once that a person one shared personal things with starts to feel important, especially if the person understands. His father had said so and advised him that if he needed to make an ally, genuinely or for the sake of manipulation, listen to his past and his feeling and make him belief that you understand and care. Draco was there for the latter, he needed to keep his father away by having Potter sympathize him.

The older Malfoy had also said that in such instance and preferably any at all, Draco himself must keep his feelings and his past to himself, concealed like it was a weakness of him but he felt like sharing, revealing a weakness to someone who wasn’t truly a friend, he wanted to do it.

   “Malfoy?” Potter interrupted his thoughts. He was taking too long to answer.

   “Yeah—ah,” He worried his lips and then exhaled. He let his head drop. “I… didn’t think I would ever say this and mean it but I do understand what you mean”

   “Oh do you?”

   “I like boys” He blurted out then explained. “I only liked boys and my father always spoke very ill of sodomites, he would say it was unnatural and wrong for people of the same gender to be together, he didn’t even know about me yet he went on about it like it was important for me to know. It was both about following the old ways and frowning upon new ones and also a problem for continuing the bloodline.

Of course he had said so and I was suppose to believe it without questioning and mean it by heart. But I couldn’t, everyday, if a thought crossed me I would tell myself it was wrong. I tried to avert my mind to thinking about women only and liking it but ultimately, I touched myself while thinking about other boys and afterwards spent hours thinking how I would fail my family if I were unable to provide them a heir.

   Your situation is different Potter, I had authority telling me their version of right and wrong. You have your conscience doing that to you, your morality is better than that my father had but in the end, a right force stops you and you are the wrong one despite not wanting to be.

   In my case, I just realized, after a long time that my father was wrong, sad for you I can’t say that about your codes or morals. Your needs really are wrong and your helpless.”

   “You do understand then. ” Potter said lifting his back from the headboard.

   “You wouldn’t expect me to. I didn’t expect to say any of this when I walked in here”

   “What did you come here for?”

   “I told you. Being friends with you is better for me. If you would be friends with me, you would listen to me when I ask you not bring my father here for the same purpose as the other criminals. You can hurt him, that isn’t the point, I just don’t want to face him. I have confronted him already, in Azkaban, without wanting to.

   The aurors figured they could torture me like that, clever people they are. They took me to my father’s cell and watched from afar as he told me what a failure I was and how misfortunate he was to have had me. There is really nothing to it really, he just thought I was weak because I was innocent and couldn’t be put in Azkaban and he said things about mother but he was really just jealous of our freedom.”

   “You are still not friends with me but is it what you ask of me still? That I don’t bring your father?”

   “I do ask that of you, I would beg you for it if need be. It _is_ that serious but it is your choice and I will leave you to it.”

   “You were better than this Malfoy, there was more fight in you.”

   “Oh there never was, there just never came a chance for you to see that until the war. What will you do?”

   “Do you still love your father?”

   “I don’t. His allegiance with the Dark Lord tore our family apart, it destroyed us and that last meeting proved he never cared for me or mother, I don’t have to do that either.”

   “But do you?”

   “No” Draco said firmly.

   “He is a bitter enemy, your father. I will save him for later when I want more than strangers. We will not bring him here, we will keep him away from you but I will do as I want with him and you will never have a problem with that”

   “I won’t.”

“Good. Now that you have got what you wanted, I believe you have no need of falsely befriending me, so you can…” Potter eyed the door.

“You listened to me without that. Are you satisfied with it?”

“No, I will just tell myself that Malfoy had tricked me into thinking we are friends and used me”

“Right then. I will tell myself that I was tricking Potter into thinking we are friends while I used him” He kicked his shoes off and climbed on the bed.

There was a smile on his face, one that wasn’t a mocking sneer or anything contemptuous and one he shared with Potter. For the first time after that subverting war, Draco could sense hope.

“Tell me more about the closet you live in, Malfoy”

   Draco grinned. “I always told myself I would keep my sexual orientation hidden and when the time comes, marry Astoria and you know, pretend that I was straight. I wasn’t very fond of the idea but anything else was out of question”

   “Honestly, I would prefer my own life over one with such obligations, do you even know Astoria, what if you had totally different tastes and-and…I don’t see how it can work out”

   “It has always functioned like that among the purebloods, Potter. I don’t know Astoria really but she was never interested in talking to me at all so we kept our distance. It isn’t like she avoided me or something, she was just always very reserved about herself, you know, the kind of a person who would be impressed by nothing and roll her eye a lot.”

   “No nonsense and straightforward, truly boring ”

   “Yeah, back in fourth year at the time of the Yule Ball, I actually tried talking to her but she bluntly said that she didn’t want to pretend and follow the formalities. She stated that both of us were going to hate the marriage and still let it happen so let’s not act like we are happy.

   I knew from then on it was not going to be a happy marriage for either of us and maybe not a good life either”

   “A miserable loveless marriage” Potter mused.

   “That isn’t what really would have made it miserable though, this one day she came back to the common room late. She was smiling and was strangely lost which is simply not like her. When others asked her, she said that Weasely tried scaring her with a spider but screamed himself. It didn’t really make sense but you could tell that she was smitten. She did a lot of romantic sighing and other dramatic stuff after that”

   “I was with Ron that night, he didn’t even know that I had a spider with me. We were wondering the castle, that’s all”

   “Well, she didn’t mention you. The Weasely had a very strong effect I guess. From then onwards, she religiously retrieved all information about him and had her eyes on the Gryffindor table whenever we were in the Great Hall.  Really unexpected that was, a Weasely, you wouldn’t think she would ever do that.

Anyhow, marrying someone who isn’t interested in you is one thing, but someone who is actually in love with another person felt plain wrong. I thought it was just a crush in the beginning but during the war, she was praying about his wellbeing and she stayed back while the Slytherin were sent to the dorms to try to protect him. You could tell that she secretly wished for you to win so that he may be alright.

I wanted to tell father that she liked a blood traitor and for that alone he would have decided against our marriage but then I would have had to marry another girl which could have just been Pansy and I am certain as hell I didn’t want that.”

   “Just terrible” Potter shuddered. “You could have shagged as many boys you could considering you wouldn’t get to afterwards”

   “Potter you are ridiculous. We are suppose to wait until marriage and I would very much keep myself controlled than be caught and disowned.”

At this, Potter actually laughed. “So..so are telling me that you are a virgin. What the hell Malfoy?”

 Draco blushed. “Nothing’s funny about it Potter.”

   “Cherry boy.”

   “Shut up.”

   They spoke for a while then, a conversation better than any they had had in years. It was an hour to midnight when Draco left the room. He had carefully left it out  that among the boys he had taken a likeness for, Potter had been the very first. They had been enemies sure and he hated the him with passion most of his life. It was Draco’s fascination with strong and potentially dominant males that drew him towards the other.

In that manner, he thought of Blaize and even Marcus Flint, it wasn’t about anything else but his physical need and nothing Potter needed to know.

Once back in his own room, surrounded by pink walls and ornate furnishings, Draco lay down in his bed and pulled the sheets above his shoulders. He felt strangely light-hearted with nothing to worry about for the time being. Perhaps he had forgotten this feeling.

\--

The next day, Potter had come knocking at his door and woken him for school.  Draco had to rush the shower and spend hardly half of what he usually did on his hair while Potter reminded him severally that they might miss breakfast again and that Draco had woken up late.

At school, they met with Weasely who greeted Potter warmly and apologized for having been around very frequently. For Draco he had the regular glare. Hermione took a more a more humble approach. The two  were going to be around for the rest of day. Thankfully, there were no lessons they shared with the Slytherin that day so Black wouldn’t meet with them.

There was however, a Herbology class with the Revenclaws for which Professor Sprout had paired Draco with Luna Lovegood. Turns out, it was better than it could have been with any other Revenclaws who, like the other houses, were still displeased with him.

Once the pairs were announced, Draco sheepishly walked past the others and to the table where Lovegood sat alone. Longbottom was sitting with her earlier but had moved when his pair Revenclaw insisted that they sit away from the peculiar girl.

   “Hello Draco” She said casually. For a moment, he was confused. He nodded slightly and then sat next to her.  “We are suppose to remove the browned skin over these climbers, they are mostly fresh but—”

   “I did make notes”

   “Oh.  You should have been paired with someone else then. Half the class doesn’t know what to do. They will hurt the climbers”

   “They will do that anyway”

   “Yes” She looked back at the blue vines. The equipment on the table was similar to that in the Potions class, only the edges of the blades less sharp.

   “I am not avoiding work or anything but you should do the skinning, I tried that and ended up shattering a Runepoor fang into pieces.”

   “That’s alright, observe.”

And observe he did as she delicately positioned the pants and stroke them as if they were living beings. They moved like they were, they felt certainly and could understand that they had fell in safe hands. A glance at the rest in the class would explain that, as others tossed the plants around, someone cut right through them and green liquid sprayed upon the entire corner. Draco found himself flinching at that, by the end of the lesson, perhaps only him and Lovegood would be left if climbers that weren’t dead.

While mismanagement had a caused a commotion and Professor Sprout yelling orders trying to calm the students and the plants that were making snarling sounds and were hurled in a corner, Draco spotted Potter petting sitting on a bench while his partner had long been distracted by the havoc that was created.

Potter’s fingers were stiff as they hovered above the sappy flesh, it seemed that he was unaffected by the turbulence in the class. Deliberately Potter scraped at some brown skin and peeled it off. It was done neatly, could have been considered professionally even had Potter been using the instruments than bare hands. The dead skin could be clipped off and discarded but instead he dug a nail dug into it. There was tightness around his mouth.

Waiting for a moment he snapped his hand downward removing an entire layer of the skin. The vine screeched, it jolted from beneath. Potter pressed a foot down on it to keep it in place, so forceful, the shriek grew but the thick vine did not escape.

Potter titled his head then turn by turn rooted the thorns out of the plant every time making it thrash in his grip.  When no spikes were left on it and the vine was weeping a green fluid from several places, he coiled it around his hand and snatched it out of the pot it was growing from. The convulsion dwindled and stopped and the vine was still.

Potter dropped it, his hands sticky from sap that had been squeezed out. He looked up then, right at Draco as if he knew that he was watching the entire time. Draco feigned  an indifferent look but when Potter snorted, smiled wryly and his eyes narrowed, horror broke on Draco’s face, unbidden.

Potter shook his head at Draco’s attempt and concealment and then left the bench to the join the others on the climbers’ hunt. Draco wanted to leave  the room, he felt sick.

   ‘It was only a plant’ he wanted to believe. But Potter was turning sadistic and Black was going to feed this nature. His moods too, were somewhat unpredictable now, he had sat solemnly and quiet this day and worked instead of chattering during lessons which the Weasely had gawked at. He ignored Draco the entire time, merely taking notice of that the Weasel had changed his schedule to attend a class with the Slytherin, doubtlessly, to be with Blaize.

But then, once it was time to go home, Damian the Disastrous had come sauntering there way like he wasn’t about do something utterly wrong and Potter had brightened up like a Christmas tree.

   “Hey, so, how are things with you?”

 Potter spread his hands and shrugged. “You have the guy, the…”

   “A guy? Not really, it’s a woman.”

   “You do have someone right?”

   “Yeah and you better be thankful Harry, such things are not easy to arrange.” Black said. “We had to take your name at the ministry to get Kingsley’s approval but no press got involved so we are safe.”

   “You told Kingsley? You have lost your brain or what?”

   “We didn’t tell him anything about you idiot, just took your name to get approval of this little program.”

   “What program?”

   “Percy has this false setup which has been examined by the aurors and we paid some people relevant to the work we have offered to do to say that they volunteered for the job. The criminals will be given an option to endure pain and in turn reduce certain number of years from their imprisonment period depending on how much they bear.”

“And Kingsley agreed to something like that?”

“That is where your glorious name helped us, Percy said that it was your idea and he was speaking on your behalf. The public will know once it is official that involvement in such matters is with legal right.  Aside from your regular auror work, you will have to be the representative on Kingsley’s council for the auror’s unit as well as his personal consultant and public speaker once you have completed auror training”

“Wait..wha—You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to or…Damian, can you imagine how much work will that be? I wanted to catch criminals not get involved into Kingsley’s politics. I am basically going to do all his work while he warms the seat in his office”

“You would be one of the criminals yourself if we didn’t do this Harry” Black said. “Kingsley likes you as much as he likes his position and he promised it won’t get in the way of your auror work.  He is a good man alright, he wants to fix the damage done by the war and it will be taken positively that you are helping him do so”

“It will help him keep his position for all I know but whatever, there is a setup and aurors have approved it, then what?”

“And George is doing the job of transferring the criminals, he will apparate them to a place we have decided and I will capsule them up and bring them here. have twenty-four hours and Percy personally took the responsibility of checking on what the Program does so we won’t have to worry about getting caught.

For twenty-four hours they are yours then. The criminals will have signed contracts to determine the number of years you want to reduce so if you harm them for a lot more we will have to heal them up other than altering their memories, I can manage that but whatever you do, don’t kill them. We need to return them to Azkaban or there will be trouble.”

“Okay, the plan is good but fucking additional jobs are not appreciated.”

“Thank you and fuck off. I will get the woman to you in two to three hours since I will have to go somewhere first”

“Where?”

“A sex shop maybe, or somewhere they sell kinky objects and then probably a dark arts shop in the knockturn alley for torture devices, I figure you won’t have them lying around the Grimmauld Place” Black shrugged.  

“Right…”

His eyes slowly turned to Draco. “Should I take Malfoy along? It would be weirder to go to such places alone and I could use an opinion on what to take and stuff?”

   “No way, I refuse” Draco stated at once. “I am going nowhere with him.”

   “Well I do have to keep him under supervision.”

   “I can keep him behaved and no one would know.”

   “Fine from me then.”

   “Did you not hear what I said? I am not going”

   “Any particular reasons Draco?” Black asked innocently.

   “You, I don’t like you and I certainly don’t want to go to any such places”

   “Breaks my heart. Harry, I need him along.”

Potter turned to Draco. “Malfoy, I think you will have to agree here.”

   “The answer is no and it stays tha—”

   “I am not asking you Malfoy. I have so much for you and I thought you wanted to me to maintain the hospitality” The threat, there is was.

   “Potter, please.”

   “Umm No.”

Potter apperated.


	13. Friends, foes and Freaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The descriptions of settings or certain events might seem under-described at times but the reason to that is because the amount of details given depends on how much the character pays attention to it.
> 
> And...I am sorry if the writing sucks, I am a newbie at writing and was kind of dealing with an anxiety episode (as I like to call it) while writing this so sorry if it comes off as weird or something. *grimaces*

“No , Potter, stop” Draco kicked the ground. “Damn it”

   “Now who is going to save you Draco?” Black asked taking long deliberate steps toward him. “I will drag you to the forest and rip your entrails out”

   “I am going to McGonagall. Stay where you are, I said—”

   “We will go to a quiet place with nobody to hear us-”

   “Look—”

   “And you will watch as your end closes it claws on you” The distance between them was crossed. Draco shut his eyes. He leant against the wall, ready to scream. “And…” Draco stayed in the position for moments, confused when nothing happened.  He opened his eyes and looked around. The wall behind him was gone making his posture awkward.  “And you will find yourself accompanying me down the knockturn Alley.”

Draco straightened up noticing that they had been apperated.  “Git, why did you  bring me here, huh?”

Black began to walk. Frustrated, Draco followed behind. “Black I asked you something, I know you didn’t just want a  shopping companion”

   “For fuck sake Draco, it is Damian. Trust me, we can hate each just as much with first names.”

   “You answer me right now”

Black turned around. “It would feel weird shopping like I am building a torture chamber, and why it _is_ precisely what I am doing, someone around would be a little reassuring. Of course bringing a virgin along isn’t going to be a lot help but, sure as fuck, funny”

   “Cut the cra—wait, how do you know that I am a…”

   “Purebloods man, we grew up with the same rules. I didn’t follow them of course, particularly not ‘shag none but your fucking wife’ but you certainly followed them like a good boy.”

   “Well yeah foul-mouth but you didn’t bring me here to watch me blush.”     

   “Aha? You are right.”

   “Tell me whatever you are up to or else”

   “Or you will shoot the death-curse at me? Huh?”

Draco sucked air through his teeth. “Just tell me”

   “I am going to try sex toys on you, each and every one of them. You are going to be a little sore by the end of the day.”

Draco closed his eyes and breathed in. He was _not_ going to blow up by the end of the day. “Was it the warning? Is that what you want to remind me, that I don’t hurt your poor Potter or conspire with my hidden death eater buddies. You know I don’t have my wand and mother or Greyback can’t enter the Grimmauld Place. Potter is safe and I have no intention of harming him.”

  “You are a really _really_ bad person, you know that?” Black asked.

   “What?”

   “Walk along.” He began moving again. Draco followed.

   “When you let those death-eaters into your school, you know how many died, how many suffered, how many are still suffering because of the loved ones they lost? Do you even realize what you did to them?”

   “So that is what all the hate is for, you think—”

   “You don’t feel a thing do you? No regrets, no compassion, just that _you_ had been better of without doing any of it. I understand, I don’t a fuck about them poor bastards either”

Now, Draco was officially out of words.  Black looked at him. “You think I would hate you because you indirectly killed some people I never met or some mournful families who would have been indifferent about the entire war had their children survived?

   No Draco,  that was Harry Potter’s job and I have no desire to be him. In fact, I think he was stupid to want to save anyone other than himself. But hey, he gets to be the Prince charming in a golden armor then, and we just bystanders.

We are, who we are, Draco. I am a failure of heir whose not worthy of the sacred family name and you are the failure who couldn’t live up to daddy’s expectations and ended up kissing the saviors arse to save yours. I am a desolate little rebel and you are a cowardly arse-licker.

I am not ashamed, you shouldn’t be either”

  “You have a fancier title.” Draco snorted, a brittle smile broke on his face with a sense of _ugly_ humor.

Black returned it.

   “It was your father Sirius was fighting when Bellatrix attacked him. Misfortunately, I can’t get a revenge while he is in prison and he doesn’t give a damn about you as my recourses tell me so I can’t just send your tortured arse back to him with the rest of your pieces, which was by the way my” Black made quotation marks with him fingers. “original plan”

   “You were going to kill me?’ Strangely, he felt nothing about it.

   “In the worse manner possible and maybe arrange your parents to sit through it all but since that will no longer work, you can rest assured you are safe—at least as long as Harry is”

   “So…how else do you plan on taking your revenge?”

   “Harry will do it for me once I bring him your father”

   “Is that why you are helping him? Or is it even helping him at all, are you just bringing him criminals because you want to avenge Sirius Black?”

   “I am bringing him _your father_ to avenge Sirius Black. Originally I just wanted to meet Harry and cry the grief out and shit. It was Percy and George you were going to help me with the revenge but Hermione had some interesting things to say about Harry and I happened to have made a friend of him so I found my situations overlying is all.

  I am not using him, I care for him. What he needs to do is just fulfilling my purpose, there is nothing wrong with that.”

   “What he needs to do? Just cut it already, you are using his _need_ for your revenge. You could plot a murder for it but you wouldn’t fake a friendship. What do you take me for? A fool?”

   “I am helping him and helping myself, make of it what you want but I am afraid you and I are going to share a secret and you are going to keep it.”

   “And why would I do that?”

   “As it happens, I know where your mother is and I also know people in the ministry who would find the information very useful. I guess what happens next you know well.”

   “You son of a…”

  “Now now Draco, you are the one with no options, better it is you act like that.”

  “Don’t you dare give away my mother or I don’t care what the ministry does, I will kill you.”

   “It isn’t like you don’t have your wand and Harry would let you do it. We can make a happy little deal Draco, I have nothing personal against good old Narcissa Black so I wouldn’t give her any trouble unless I have reasons. Now let’s not keep Harry waiting.”

They walked the rest of the way, Draco partly tying to stop his aversion from making him do something pathetic and half nervous about what was coming ahead. His prude nature was surfacing and Black’s devilish grin was unsettling.

   “Can I wait outside?” He asked,  hating how he needed permission.

   “What if you ran away? We can’t have that now.”

   “You know I won’t—”

   “You are coming inside Draco, don’t make me force you.”

Draco averted his eyes at the picture of a woman dressed in latex and a naked man kneeling by her outside a double-storey building. He was way more shy than he had thought, perhaps it was an affect of so many years of restrictions. Reluctantly he stepped inside and cursed inwardly when Black patted him on the shoulder.

There were few other people around but none thankfully took a notice of them. Draco took in the new sight chewing his lips anxiously. All the stands and shelves contained such objects that Draco couldn’t put a name too but the illustrations explained rather too well what they were meant to be used for.

In all honesty though, Draco wasn’t disgusted, on the very contrary, he found himself curious and amused by the way Black was handling things and interacting with the shopkeeper, he was being casual, giving an impression that it was alright to just pop by and pick an _insert-able_ or two and share a word with someone who worked here.

He could only imagine how it would have went had his parents caught him going to a sex shop. There was a sense of freedom to getting to do it even though he hadn’t voluntarily walked in.

All the positivity vanished quickly to a state of silent panic when they went to the other shop.  This was no place with illustrated packaging containing sex toys and friendly looking women to assist you in shopping. It didn’t in fact look like a shop at all, it was a room full of torture devices with blades and spikes and restraints that could do anything from cracking bones to passing right through the limbs.

   “What is this place?” He asked, his eyes wide with dread as his mind produced images of flagitious happenings involving the objects.

   “Harry doesn’t just want to spice up his sex life, he needs a torture chamber.”

   “Will it help him at all? I cannot convince myself that you are doing him any  good.”

   “And why do you care?”

   “I live with him, if he goes insane from all what you are making him do, I am first one he will murder in cold blood.”

   “He will do that much earlier if he tries to suppress his needs. You should think of this like you are living with Voldemort, or someone in process of becoming him, you wouldn’t want that to happen too soon right?”

   “But he will do something eventually.”

   “If I happen to prove helpless then yes but many will die in that case Draco, so no worries.”

   “ _Damian_ can you do anything? Can you help him?” He blurted out urgently.

   “Why don’t you just trust me when I say that I genuinely want to? He is all who is left of those I can call family and this isn’t something you would understand but I am in desperate need of one… like he is.” It wasn’t like Draco had a prosperous one waiting in anticipation of his return and no confiscated homes and disgraced names, but Damian wasn’t talking in that sense, he meant a loss like a Potter’s. “And you want him to be alright, don’t you?”

   “It will save my life.”

   “You care for him.”

   “I don’t, I always hated him and I still do.” Draco snapped defensively, leaving the uncertainty out of his voice.

   “And why is that? Tell me where does this tale of _malice_ begins” Damian said mockingly.

‘Potter rejected his friendship, that’s where’ Draco could not mouth it. It felt like it would somehow prove Damian’s point. “That is none of your business.”

   “Yeah, it really isn’t.” Damian shrugged and turned around to go to a counter.

A old man sat behind it, his face partly covered with his hood. He lifted his head slowly, big round eyes rising to meet Damian’s. The face was wrinkled with a thin scatter of white hair in place of the eyebrows.

   “Who are you?” The man asked simply.

   “Someone who can pay well.” Damian said.

   “And why does someone who can pay well brings a death eater along?”

Damian spun around and grabbed Draco’s wrist. Draco could tell it was to see if his arm was bare or not. It wasn’t. He let go off it. “Quite famous aren’t you?” He murmured and turned back.

   “Is he for sale?” The man inquired lewdly looking Draco up and down.

   “He isn’t.” Damian pulled him behind his back for which Draco was grateful. “I believe his presence should not concern you. We need some of that equipment. You will show us around.”

   “Of course young master, death eaters aren’t frowned upon here” _but definitely leered at._ “We have recently dealt with them. Follow me and I should show you the Bradshaw’s finest.” The man said and walked over to a stool that in place of a seat had a sharp–tipped pyramid and a harness on top of it. “This is the Guided Cradle” He said proudly. “Originally made by the muggles, it can do your victims serious harm without killing them, it is charmed to lower the victim on to the spike as per the owner’s demand. It will also tie up and position a victim’s orifices above the spike. Marvelous invention truly.”

   “Looks good” Damian said. “We will take it.”

   “And this is The Rack.” He said crossing to a frame with wooden rollers. “You tie your victim here and pull the handle, it will stretch the limbs. The hard you pull, the more it impacts. It can dislocate bones and even tear off the limbs.”

And like that he described other torture devices he had in store. Damian (yes Draco could hate Damian as much as ‘Black’) observed each of them and as before, acted like he was doing routine work and nothing gruesome. 

Along with the devices, he bought whips with different widths, floggers, paddles, daggers and bondage equipment of all kinds. “Good enough” Damian said. “These should do. Now we need to go collect our lady and then we go back.” He went to the counter and firecalled the Wizarding Bank to transfer fifteen hundred galleons to the man’s vault. “So anyway, what recent deals with death eaters were you talking about?”

   “Why I believe it concerns you not, young master”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Fifteen galleons.”

The man smirked. “It was a werewolf, he came to sell a woman, this one’s mother no less.” He said eyeing Draco.

   “What? Where’s my mother? Where is she?” Draco cried leaning against the counter. The man moved back and scoffed. Damian pulled him back by the arms.

   “Sold her on of course. That’s what I do here.”

   “The fuck. To whom?” Damian asked.

   “To the vampires.”

   “Shit. Draco come on.”

   “No! he—”

   “She is not here” He said firmly, handed the man the galleons and lead Draco out of the shop by the arm. “Just damn it, I told her not to go but she didn’t listen.”

   “You knew my mother?”

   “She used to live in the Black Manor before her marriage, doesn’t that seem like the first place she would go to while trying to hide? She came to us, asking for help. I told her to turn herself in as she hadn’t murdered anyone and helped Harry. She wanted to but the werewolf didn’t let her so they fled to the Grimmauld Place.

I wanted to help her, she was better than most of _your_ god damned kind. I would have hidden her but the wereworlf was impossible to keep hidden and he was kind of holding her hostage so we couldn’t keep her and let him go.

 They left then. they were at the shrieking shack the last checked but I didn’t know that he sold her.”

   “God no” Draco pressed his fingers against his temples. “Not my mother.”

   “The vampires were prohibited from hunting wizards some decades ago, mere muggles don’t satisfy them so they buy a wizard whenever one’s available at such shops. They are sold at high prices I tell you.”

   “I don’t care about any of that, is my mother alright or not?”

   “Have some sense Draco. I wouldn’t be surprised if they drained her right in the shop. Vampires like wizard blood like anything.”

   “My…mother” Draco sobbed dryly and looked ahead, his face unmoving, like something had killed him and yet life was continuing on unaffected. “Dead” He said the word trying to feel it. The understanding wouldn’t come to him. He felt numbness in his brain, blankness, the void sucked him in, then slowly moisture welled in his eyes. Despair colored his face. “No!” He let out a wail and broke in to tears.

People turned, Black muttered something to himself but Draco sobbed like a child, unconcerned of the world around him. Why his mother, why the only one of the dark lord’s accomplices who was actually not evil? She was innocent, she just wanted it to end like he did. Why _her_.

He sniveled endlessly. It didn’t cross him once that he had a reputation for remaining reserved or that an enemy watched him weep so weakly.  He didn’t care, he was weak, he couldn’t save the only person who loved him.

   “Let’s go Draco” Damian said pitifully. He tapped his shoulder stiffly then with light grip on him, he apparated them to some place in muggle London. George Weasely was there, standing next to a long pole on the side of the road as moving machines that contained people darted by. The sun was almost down, the sky had darkened, large buildings in the area threw shadows across the road, simultaneously brightening it with the light that flashed through their windows.

Draco was weeping silently, looking once when Damian and the Weasely both glanced at him then turned back. In the brief exchange Draco had tried expressing both guilt and the need of a solace, the kind he was sure the Weasely would have given him had he just been a school bully. He could no longer fight that he needed comfort, that his loneliness was getting to him and now that he had no one left. He had no aims, no determination for strengthening himself for the sake of someone or something, all his ambition was just _gone_.

   If the Weasely noticed him, his plea was denied for which Draco could only repent his past decisions and hate his fragility all the more. Damian walked away with him. At a distance they conversed for a while—longer than it would had taken them to exchange a hand held object.

The Weasely  was no longer how Draco had remembered him to be, a mere look at him gave that away. There were signs of sleeplessness on his face, he may have jested at school, may appeared as though he was alright but he was displaying no masks now and he was dealing with his own share of suffering , only his was undeserved.

After giving Damian a small sideways hug, he walked away. Damian came back to him. Draco waited sullenly and let Damian slide a hand into his curled fingers. They apperated to the entrance of the   Grimmauld Place.

   “Where the hell were you?” Potter asked almost hopping at the door with excitement. Of course, this lot was yet to come.

   “You had the door open? Really Harry?”

   “Well I was waiting.” They walked in, Damian casually pushing Potter aside and walking in, leaving Draco’s hand. “Come on, show me the woman and what else did you get me?”

   “Why you are welcome Harry, so much gratefulness for nothing, you are flattering me.” Damian tilted his head and fluttered his lashes.

   “I owe you so much Thanks a lot, O Savior of mine, what would I do without you?”

   “More like it, now bring me a refreshment while I go upstairs.”

Potter shoved Draco ahead towards the kitchen gesturing him to deal with serving the dark _savior._ Draco trudged inside and poured a glass of water without so much as an un-mouthed complain and walked back. He seemed to have lost his ability to process his surroundings and react accordingly. All he could feel was a pang in his chest, the wetness of the tears soundlessly cascading down his cheeks and heaviness in his body.

Potter in the mean while had rushed upstairs too. Would Draco be made to watch it? He had no idea what he would feel now that he had something else in his brain keeping him so badly occupied. He climbed the stairs almost swinging forth mindlessly when he reached the end of the stairs.

Instead of the toasty living room, he was met with entirely different surrounding. Damian had transformed the place into some kind of a dungeon. The passageway to their rooms too had vanished. When Draco looked back, he couldn’t see the stairs either.

The regular walls were replaced with grey upholstered ones, a small sphere of glowing light in on the ceiling that lied low compared to the regular one, and all that they had purchased today was fixed into the room in a way it looked like part of the illusion Damian had conjured. The whips , floggers, knifes and the ropes were in on the wall. Suspenders hung from the roof and the torture devices were placed so there  may be moving place in between.

One corner was left empty, probably for when Potter would to mindlessly pummel someone.  Damian was in the middle of the dungeon, he was telling something to Harry as he held his wand up, swayed his wrist and the place was a living room again. When the wrist motion was done in reverse, the room turned back into the dungeon.

Draco approached him and extended the plate in which he had carried the glass. Damian took it without looking at him and downed it at once. “…So with that settled, here is your woman.”

_*Prospective Change*_

Harry’s eyes followed the movement of Damian’s hand as it reached into his semi-formal black coat and produced  a small pill. It was parted in the middle, he pressed behind its joint with his thumb and pulled back the top.

Lights of several colors poured out of it, within the fluidity, dashing about haphazardly until they blended together into a shimmering white and formed first, only the outline of a woman who lay on the ground as if she had been thrust down sideways and then skin and features formulated.

Her expression was of shock, which seemed to have remained that since she hit the ground. She was naked, of which the realization came quickly. She sat and drew her knees up violently jerking her head about to see where she had come.

   “Pardon our good lady’s manners, she was quite ill-informed of where she was being taken to and the capsule can make you dizzy.” Damian smiled. Malfoy stood next to him, color had risen on his cheeks at the bareness of the woman. Harry couldn’t help but sneer at that. It wasn’t like the cherry boy  had any interest in females but it seemed like the first time he had ever seen an adult without clothes. The little virgin must have never been allowed.

 The woman was a fair-skinned blonde, she was quivering, but she looked at Harry expectantly, like he was going to protect her. That made him pause, of course like all others she expected him to be heroic, ready to help even a criminal was there one in need.

But what did she know of what had happened to him, she was but another, what, thief? What much could the poor thing be? “So why was she in prison anyway?”

   “Murdered her fiancé when she caught him cheating with this waitress, left her mutilated.”  Damian said.

Not so innocent then, he would have to pretend that it was reason enough. Harry walked closed to her and firmly held her up by the shoulder. He was doing this, there was no way he could ever stop now. He dug his nails hard into the skin, grimly amused at the gasp she let out.

He thrust her to the wall, following after her and pressed his knee against her hip. With the other hand, he gripped his shoulder and forced it again the wall.

   “Wha-” She attempted to say.

He jerked her chin up with the free hand. “Quiet.” He whispered and accioed a knife. Her eyes bulged at the sight of the blade that gleamed on its edge. Harry hovered it above her thigh letting his head fall to the side. She was fighting his grip, whimpering even trying to kick him away, all too useless.

Harry extended the knife slowly digging it in and stopping when a thin line of blood started down her thigh. He looked back at the face. Tears, and a deliciously frightened face.

With his clutch very steady, he ghosted the knife up her stomach to her breast. The pain wasn’t unbearable, not close to torturous just a thin itch that gradually began to affect. He moved upward then with a jolt, drove it right below her clavicle.

She shrieked, thrashing her legs like she had been electrocuted.  “Stop.” She chocked squeezing her eyes tight and raising her head.

   “No” He said leaning down to her neck. “How can I?”

He bit her collar bone softly, nibbling at the milky skin and traced the faint marks of his teeth with his tongue. He ran his fingertips up the gash on her side, merely touching her. It was almost soothing, the woman was very still staring terrorized at the dagger that penetrated her. She did not resist, not until Harry pushed the handle of the dagger upward like turning liver and another bloodcurdling scream escaped her throat.

He pushed her head up the hair looking her straight in the terror filled eyes. It was making him giddy, before he could stop he was giggling and then cackling as he very slightly drew the dagger out. Growls followed, painted with affliction, maybe she pleaded him, maybe still tried to fight him away but it was all blended into one entertaining sight for him. Like watching a comical cartoon, people hit each other, causing them to flatten under extreme weight, have holes in their bodies from bullet shots and  make drastic falls yet all one did was laugh at them, it was all somehow acceptable, the way this tormented woman was for him.

He snatched the knife out, all the piercing cries background for him. He made several quick slices at once in all directions, some deep and bleeding others simply sweeping through the air, he pushed her down on her back and kicked her over and over making her utter all kinds of disconnected sentences until the words dissolved into loud sobs.

 He placed a foot on her throat at once pressing down hard enough to make her gag and cough. Her chest rose and dropped in jerks, mouth open in the desperate attempt to suck in air, her fingers stretched and curled, shaking.

   “Harry” He heard Damian call cautiously. He looked back at the woman, the thrashing  was diminishing, sounds grew smaller. She didn’t look so good suddenly, no, she looked horrible. Blood dripped down her sides, mouth hung open, her eyes trained at the ceiling.

What had he done?

He stepped away from her, letting the knife slide out of his hand.

   “Harry?”

What was happening to him? How could such things ever please him? How could he… tears came to his own eyes now. His own doing looked horrendous to him. Something had snapped him out a dream, all of ll of this looked too real to be likable at all.

All his sense of proportion, logic, rationality, everything that would prohibit something so immoral came rushing back to him.

   “Harry” Damian said loud this time and stepped toward him.

He turned to him, his face flushed with dread and at the same time bereft and wretched. Damian stopped midway. “W-What?” He stammered. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 Harry gazed on, did he need answers? Comfort? He didn’t know, he just looked longingly.

   “Harry, stop that you are making me uncomfortable.”

Was he suppose to do that? Shouldn’t Damian be leading him on from here? Didn’t he know best?

   “Harry what’s the fucking problem?”

   “Damian” He said in a low voice, breaking the name between syllables. He lifted a feet, pushed it forth, all the while gazing dead into the other’s eye.

   “S-tay away from me, F-freak”

 Was Damian terrified of him? Did he regret having played a part? Did he hate Harry?”

Damian flicked his wrist with the capsule in his hand and the unconscious woman turned into light again and was sucked into the small case. Damian briskly walked past Malfoy and Left.

 


	14. When madmen talk sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so...I am late...  
> I wanted to say that this might read a little weird because it was extremely experimental and I have been a little anxious lately (hence the delay) So please tell me if it is fine (and why not exactly, besides being odd) because I am not sure at all.
> 
> On a side note, is it okay if i add in a little damian/draco, nothing serious of course, maybe a quick makeout session XD. I was liking the chemistry but I certainly won't if it isn't.
> 
> Also, the clothes I mentioned (sorry I just felt like it) : https://ae01.alicdn.com/img/pb/162/798/821/821798162_822.jpg

 

"A  _man with nothing_  that he loves is a  _man who cannot be bargained_ " -  _Edward Nigma aka Riddler"_

* * *

Potter stood there and watched, like there was still something in front of him and Draco looked at him like it would tell him what.

 

   Potter was ecstatic at the mere sound of what he could do, so excited, so full of life even  if it was for something morbid like this and now, it seemed that he had a struck a doll real hard then found out he had mistaken a human for one. ‘oh he didn’t want to do it, he just didn’t …know.’

 

   Draco stepped back. The sound of his footsteps suddenly too high. He no longer knew which of his emotions were to be felt right now, which to save be for a  long dreary nights, which to not feel at all.

 

   He estimated where the door of his room might be and swiped at the wall with his palm until he found the door handle. He pulled it open, walked inside and sat on the bed. His eyes were dry now, his face impassive.

                  His mother first, yes.

 

   He imagined the face of his mother, their most recent meeting, which was before the battle of Hogwarts from which she and the werewolf had disappeared, what had been her words with him? What had anything with her been like?

 

It felt like decades had passed since any of that had had meaning. Draco realized he never had any hopes of meeting her again. When  _he_  had lost and the aurors had come to the scene, she was missing, so was the werewolf, they were all so focused on the battle between Potter and the Dark lord, no one had noticed when two people disappeared.

 

   The aurors had arrested all the others, some had tried dueling and lost or won, Draco didn’t see but he himself did not put up a fight. He was sure then that it was the last the time was seeing his mother. He was nowhere close to believing it or even knowing that he felt so but he did.

   

   He had thought of her during the interrogation, thought how she ever tolerated someone like his father knowing what kind of a person she was. (but maybe his wasn’t so hellacious always.) But as he had come to accept the change in things, he had forgotten the feelings of being with her, of anything from that time.

 

   He knew it, knew that things happened, how they did but no more he could fit himself among it all, no longer  _relate_ to himself from this now unfamiliar time. Longing was there, for his mother to come back, for everything to be like before because it was surely good right? He just didn’t remember but things were certainly good. And So Longing was there,  _wish_   _was there_  but hope, no.

 

   Maybe if she had returned, Potter would help her or his changing condition would keep him from it. He didn’t know but there was one thing Draco had become rather certain of: he had lost. His mother’s death simply marked it.  In the most twisted and most grimly rational way, it made sense that she should die. She wasn’t cut for things that happened, she would object against a life like Draco’s, which was somehow reminiscent of living under the command of a werewolf who she owed her life.

 

   But him? Was he cut for it? Was  _he_ objecting for a life like his? Oh no.

 

Draco scowled.

   

   He was doing nothing about it, merely complaining and keeping it suppressed, scared that he would be confiscated of the little someone’s mercy has gotten him. He was small, so fragile in the midst of all that had happened. When for the first time, he was vulnerable with only his own aid, what had he done? Death eaters had died for a cause, it made them something. Was the dark lord victorious, they would be martyrs, but he knew that was not him. And he wasn’t Sirius Black either, his sense of right and wrong could not win over his lack of courage.

                  He.Was. Weak.

 

   He snorted, returning to this conclusion for the tenth time.

 

    Narcissa Malfoy’s death rid him of a need to be strong, his need to ‘go on for someone he cared about’ It rid him from the very need to live as she was in the most genuine sense, all he could have.  And he wasn’t experiencing a rush of newfound strength coursing through his body like it was suppose to happen to heroes after tragedies. He wasn’t going to ‘come back stronger than ever to avenge his loved one’

 

   It was all coming back to those few statements. He was weak. He was not a hero.

 

   He would not gain back anything. He would not fight for it.

   

   He would do …NOTHING!

 

   A brainwave hit Draco as the word came to his mind.

 

   Why did that sound so good? Aurors could come for him again, Harry Potter could someday decide that he was beatable meat and all he would have to do is nothing! That was easy, something that Draco could do.

 

And what would he do when Damian and other students called him names? What would he do when they hated him?

 

   “Nothing” He said out loud, giddy.

 

   And if Potter tried to kill him? “Absolutely nothing.”

 

He exhaled once, noisly, another time, then broke into a hysterical laughter. He stood up and spun around, leaning on the mirror that was built over a drawer in between the cupboards.

 

   Imagine having no responsibilities, like knowing that the whole future was planned for you  without your involvement. Like hour long sessions of reading through documents suddenly not important to do.

 

   Wouldn’t that be heavenly? Totally a bliss? Why did people hate that so much? Defeat was wonderful with a little mercy and acceptance and a fate like his. For the first time, he felt truly grateful for Potter’s help, he had to work for him and in return, he wouldn’t have to face the world and stay hidden in the Grimmauld Place.

 

   He remembered his conversation with Hermione. It made so much more sense now. It almost frightened him how well she had been able to see things. 

 

   “And what if I don’t have the ambition?” he had asked.

 

   Draco did not understand his own words then. He did now, and knew that they were true. And the answer he had received for that: Practice living the way he did now.

 

   That was precisely what he would do. He let out a girlish squeak and jumped back on the bed.

 

   He decided this was all long what he wanted. The excuse to give up and he finally had one!

 

   He briefly thought that he had probably gone mad but that, like everything else didn’t matter anymore. All he had to do was be good to Potter and simply live on until he didn’t have to.

 

   He wiped off the tears in his eyes that he hadn’t noticed returning then snuggled with the blue bear and slept every so peacefully now.

 

   Potter was on the door the next day, he had wept the entire night or so the redness in his eyes manifested. Draco got up and grabbed his robes from the cupboard. He brushed his fingers through the hair and decided that they looked fine this way.

  

   “Shall we go?” He asked with a twinkle in the eye as if the following night he had left everything behind.

 

   Potter seemed to notice the change in his behavior but he said nothing about it. He said nothing at all. He took Draco’s hand and apparated them to their regular spot and walked inside. They made it on time for breakfast today.

    All the students were gathered in the Great Hall, the attention on him had decreased. Other than the Gryffindors nobody noticed that Draco was sitting with Potter. Across the room, where he used to sit, Draco saw Pansy, Blaize and a number of other Slytherin grouped together with their attention directed entirely towards Damian.

 

   He was talking to them, smiling so very casually. He managed to keep them all interested. Draco could hear him from his seat among the Gryfindors. Many people on the table seemed to take advantage of that. Potter looked at Damian, hurt. Weasely looked envious, as Blaize was sitting right next the new Slytherin leader and he seemed quite pleased.  The other Gryfindors just wanted to talk about his looks.

 

   Damian said something about gingers, without so much as glancing at Weasely. “Oh wait, I am sorry Blaize, soul or no soul, we’ll have to be more accepting of them now that your girlfriend and your best friend are both gingers”

 

   Blaize shook his head. “No thank you very much, it is hopefully never coming to that.”

 

   “Yeah just in case it does, know what it means when you come back all zombie-like one day.”

 

   The tanned Slytherin rolled his eyes at that but with no harshness. They continued in that manner. Damian spoke like everything from the previous night had been imaginary, only, he ignored Potter and the Griffindors now and taunted the Weasely in a sense of general opposition.

 

   When they left the hall that day, Draco caught Damian and Hannah Abbot snogging in a nearby corridor, which too, most Gryffindors noticed and whispered about but Potter merely looked.

 

   Draco had already decided on talking to Potter and maybe it would be as pleasant as the last time they properly did it. Right now however it wasn’t the wisest thing, once perhaps he was a little more stable and over this Damian experiment he had gotten himself into.

 

   That however did not happen. When they apparated back to the Grimmauld Place, Damian was already knocking at the door. Draco rolled his eyes and went to open it. If Potter had a problem with it he would say.

 

   Just as Draco unlocked the door, Damian pushed it open forcing Draco aside and walked inside. “Harry?” He said needlessly and stomped over to where he stood. Draco closed the door, turned and leaned against it.

 

   “What do you want now?” Potter asked. There was no bitterness in the voice, only the sadness he felt in his most vulnerable times. (Draco was getting familiar with it)

 

   “God, Harry you scared me yesterday. I thought you had gone insane.” Damian replied, insensitively. He had to be truly oblivious to the nature of their situation or did he really think it was appropriate?

 

   “Well I don’t think I have.” Potter muttered.

 

   “Which is good. It was a misunderstanding really, I thought you were going to blame me or something and, come on… you and that woman, I couldn’t risk staying there.”

 

   “You thought I would hurt you? Really Damian, I trusted you with all the crazy-sounding ideas you came up with and you couldn’t trust me with your safety? It is kind of sad you know.”

 

   “You are  _not in your right state of mind_ Harry. Let’s suppose you had suddenly thought that all of this was a bad idea and I was at fault, what would you do, or what should I have expect you do, considering you just stabbed a woman and laughed over it? A person with some sense would flee the scene Harry. It was as new for me as it was for you and I didn’t know how to react.” Damian countered and gripped Potter’s forearms. He was slightly taller than Potter, though it seemed he had all the control right now. It made Draco feel alarmed. The strangest feeling of protectiveness stirred in him.  He didn’t feel bad for Potter, only he knew that he was dejected yet somehow, despite his recent doings, so  _pure._ It was discomforting to think of him manipulated or defiled.

 

   And Damian felt like someone who would slice, smudge and stain the most aesthetic pictures to make them appear how he wanted. To put him and Potter together would make anyone feel a kind of pang. Draco still just watched, his intervention would not be appreciated, not even by Potter.

 

   “Yeah, how you behaved does seem reasonable now that I think about it with a clear mind” Damian went on. His eyes and grip both holding Potter. “You wouldn’t instantly get hang of anything like his, doesn’t mean you would necessarily harm me. So here I am to do something about it.”

 

   “I am not sure I want to do something again. It was…”

 

   “It was your first time and you don’t have options. I didn’t help you so that you would back off in the end. Here, have this.” Damian handed him the familiar looking capsule. “And go upstairs, try to talk yourself into not feeling guilty, stay positive about things and it would be okay.”

 

   Potter looked down at the pill and turned it in his hands for a moment. Damian waited, prominently impatient.

 

   “You are quiet a crafty someone.” Potter said suddenly.

 

   “What?” Damian startled.

 

   “Today at school, it was hard to believe you were affected at all.”

 

Damian missed a beat. “I don’t want anyone to know, it is rather well known that I come here to meet you every day and if I come back all freaked out and upset, it can look suspicious.”

   

   Potter shrugged.

 

   “Go now, and listen, you don’t have to hold back on this one, we don’t have to return him, in fact just kill him. You people have a history so this should be easy.”

 

   “Who is he?”

 

   “Fenrir Greyback. We will speak later. Go.”

 

   Draco left his spot and spoke right after Potter was gone. Originally, he had planned on poking fun at the irony of him warning Draco earlier. Now, suddenly, the feeling building inside him disappeared. “You found him?”

 

   “Found him, caught him. I will have to get my hands dirty if Harry doesn’t kill him.”

 

   “And should I be grateful?”

 

   “You can feel all the gratitude you want Draco.” Damian walked over to a couch and sat down. “But I can assure you I did none of it to avenge your dear mother.”

 

   The ground floor wasn’t very cozy, it was cold down here and all the means of seating were uncomfortable. Draco could ask him to go upstairs but Potter had probably turned the living room into his little ‘safe hell’ by now. 

 

   Damian undid the brown laces of his riding boots and conjured himself a pair of Slip-ons. Odd. But then, little about his dressing wasn’t. He wore a button up shirt which was mostly a light olive but with one sleeve black and a strange patch-work of the two colors on his chest. His pants were a regular slim-fit.

 

   Draco went to sit next to him. If he had let go really, then this couldn’t be a problem. Damian turned to him, eyed him for a moment, waiting for the silent to cease. When Draco did nothing, he frowned. “You lost your marbles?”

 

   “What?”

 

   “If I recall correctly,  you mother died and you act like you resurrected her last night.”

 

   “Yeah she died.” Draco said. It was time for a test, if he was true to himself and his new …believes, this was time to confirm it. “But, I don’t see how life was any better for her. With Greyback, she was probably miserable. It would have been better if she had died earlier, she deserved a more dignified death.”

 

   “Aha? So you mean it is good that she died?”

 

   “Well, it does seem reasonable.”

 

Damian scoffed, then smiled, somehow making two entirely different expressions connect appropriately. “What if you die? Will that also be reasonable?”

 

   “Maybe…in all honesty, I have no reasons to hold on to dear life but I am not sad enough to die, or sad at all since  _technically_ things are as good as they can get. Situations can progress as they are supposed to. I would rather just sit back and watch, if anything happens, I will know I am losing nothing in any case.”

 

   “You are going to happy man, you know. That” Damian looked ahead and pointed a finger at Draco. “is wise, hold on to this and life will be joyous.” There was a pause. Then the black haired boy looked back at him. “Let me tell you a little story. When I was thirteen, I decided one day that I was escaping, Sirius Blacks style, only I didn’t have the kind of friends who would help me out of the manor. What I did have, however, was a mechanical mockingbird in a clock, it hung in the living room. It was one of it’s kind, passed down from generations and when it struck, it’s sound made everyone know what was best for them to do at that moment, like a reminder.

   

   It spoke to me when no one was around, lovely thing it was, too nice for the people it lived with, too unlike them, like me, so I befriended it, told it about Sirius and my secret personality, it was always positive and encouraging, I had precious little of that.

 

   But you know the rules, those beneath you are pawns not friends, it applied to house elves and such things too so I had to be discreet about it. All the other people  at my school who I hung around with were purebloods themselves. I had to stay in the good books of my relatives, that's why.

 

   So back to my plan, I spent days reading about wards, learned the spells to turn them off, practiced them in secret and waited for the perfect opportunity. I had planned everything about the safest exit, who was likely to go there at that time of my escape, with what purpose, which way from and to, all possibilities accurately calculated. I wore the darkest clothes, observed the most shadowed parts in the room with lights off, even tried different shoes to see which made the least amount of noise.

 

   I was playing a mission game along with planning an escape, it was fun, the more I did it, the more self-assured I got, the more better I felt about my reliability on myself and my plan. Then the night came, everyone had had a tiring day for this occasion I don’t remember, it was close to twelve when I came outside, slowly tiptoeing to freedom, I was going to leave England, all preparations for that made already. 

   Poly juice potions, a man who was ready to catch a train to a muggle air port, I had locked him up just a day before, made sure it was just a little before my escape so that no missing person is reported. I was thinking of myself as some criminal mastermind you know.

   That is when that traitorous bird began to sing. At twelve, it sung the highest, it sprung out, opened it’s little mouth and I panicked and yelled at it to shut the fuck up before anybody comes in. It did, and it asked why, confused and hurt poor thing. 

   That is when the entire house, house elves, people, even the portraits all gathered at one place and I was caught in the act.

   It wasn’t because the clock had struck, it did that every night. It was because it hadn’t, it was because it had suddenly stopped singing and started crying, it was because I had yelled at it. My family found me, my things packed, the wards not working and at once they associated me with Sirius and things began to go the wrong way. Relationships began to change, my cousins weren’t talking to me anymore, they started treating me like an alien. Even mom had to pretend to be disappointed in me in front of them.

   At that time, I should have done nothing, I had to let it do the bird do it’s thing despite how it crazy it would sound to a terrified brain to let a bird sing at the everyone from the place I was escaping from.

That day, from that little event that made my family come to know of true nature and make things hell too difficult and restricted for me, I changed my thoughts about emotions.

   I blamed life a first, about how my plan wasn’t good enough and things were unfair. I smashed the bird into pieces and lost the only real friend I had. But as time passed, I realized it was my need to shape things that made me fail, my need to construct the future but life doesn’t always have to be your enemy, the _future_ isn’t our enemy but we make that assumption very quick. Sometimes, you are trying too hard to control it, to fit it in that mold you deem safe and correct that you end up breaking it apart.

Now leave it as it is, because you have satisfactory reasons and the time to experiment. Every one doesn’t get the right circumstances Draco, they can’t fight the need of control but for  _you_  it isn’t as risky so do it and see what happens.”

   “…Yes.” Draco muttered, amused, processing.

   “Let the bird sing, let it say it’s farewell when you walk out of hell.”

There was a knock on the door. “Harry, are you there?” someone called.

   “It’s the Weasely” Draco said, alarmed.

   “Harry is upstairs.”

   “Well then go tell him to pack up!” Draco cried.

   “In the middle of it? His mind isn’t right when he is onto his thing.”

   “What then?”

   “Harry! Are you there?” The Weasel said again, knocking louder.

Damian and Draco shared puzzled and urgent looks as the Weasely bashed at the door.

 


	15. Author Note (jeez)

Okay, uh, I might have to keep this on the hold for a while due to a couple of reasons, first being that I am a little confused as to which direction I should take this . I started out with a clear idea of how things were going to progress and I usually don't plan ending ahead of time but now, there are so many ways it could go on, I don't want to make Damian a villain which might mean a sad ending  even if Draco and Harry end up together and as for them, I wanted Draco to deliberately discover his masochistic tendencies but Harry, with the conditions he is given, would he actually fall for Draco while he is in this state, after he is normal again or what, considering that at one point he and Damian are really close?  (I swear they won't end up together) And between Harry and Draco, I know tat Harry isn't going to be very caring or concerned for Draco's well being but for Draco, how would his emotions be affected if in the start he doesn't know that he loves Harry and yet only wants his needs fulfilled? 

Can I get some suggestions? I can't bring myself to write on with so many things unclear.


	16. Light-bulb battered bug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, firstly thanks to all those who offered suggestions.  
> After a long while of simply not knowing what to do, I do know of a number of possibilities now.  
> Also, even though I put a warning for Graphic Violence, I would like to inform that this chapter was exactly the reason why I did. (hey but my writing is quite naive so no worries)

> _"One will hate you for taking his life, another will run to excesses that you scorn. A third will emerge mad and raving, another a monster you cannot control.  ― Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

Draco looked back and forth between Damian and the door. “Well” He said slowly. “I guess it doesn’t really concern me if you get caught or not.” He said managing to sound calmer than he actually was.

 

   Damian’s face slowly turned towards him growing colder as it did. Draco grinned. “Yeah well I guess it doesn’t. Here’s what will concern you more, if you don’t hold back Ronald Weasely, I will stupefy him _and then_ hex you so hard you will wish you had lured the Weasely to your bedroom instead.

  

In fact, get the Weasely to fuck you or something but hold him back. I will go upstairs and check on Harry.”

 

   “But—” Draco tried to protest but had to leap back when Damian threw a curse at his feet. He murmured something underneath his breath then turned to attend to the Weasely on the door who was saying something about whether the ‘ferret face’ had done something to Potter.

 

As soon as Draco unlocked the door, the weasel pushed it with all the force he could almost moving it from its hinges. Draco was thankful he hadn’t stood behind the door or he would have gone flying towards the wall.

 

This way however he had toppled half over Draco and the rest on his side. Draco hit the floor, smashing his head against it, the Weasel by now was a 6’4  giant and nothing  that Draco’s slender little structure could endure. Luckily the other stood up before Draco could hear his ribs crack.

 

   “What the hell Malfoy?” The ginger cursed as if Draco had pulled him onto himself.

 

   “You could have slow down maybe.” Draco said.

 

“Where the hell is Harry? Why wouldn’t the door open?” He growled angrily, he was close to grabbing Draco by the neck.

 

Draco was momentarily taken back, he was used to more passive-aggressive hatred. He didn’t want to admit being slightly alarmed by the physical advantage Weasely clearly had on him considering he didn’t look like someone who would hold back from pummeling Draco.

 

   “He is upstairs.” Draco said trying hard not to sound hesitant. “With Damian.”

Weasely gaped. “W-what is he doing there?”

 

   “Now…” Draco looked sideways attempting a coy look. Maybe he could do as Damian said. “He comes here every day and not that I look or something but they do a lot of things.”

   

   “Wha…” The ginger was flabbergasted. His mouth still hung open as he stuttered “Bu-t the Hufflepuff girl, I-I saw them there, what?—”

   

   “Yeah Damian apologized for it. He said he would make up for it. That’s probably what he is doing upstairs.” Draco smiled, enjoying the scandalized look on the ginger’s face.

 

When he simply stared at Draco for a while, Draco continued deciding to do as Damian had suggested. “They really like it with each other and poor me, I am stuck here doing the dishes.” He bowed his head and pouted innocently.

Weasely frowned probably not taking the hint.

   

   “You are taller” Draco said suddenly and took a step towards Weasely. He stood on his tiptoes to see if he reached the other’s height. Nope.

 

Weasely was confused. He looked around the room and probably thought that Draco was off his rocker. Draco giggled. “And you look so strong now.” Which was true enough, he would probably find the built attractive it wasn’t the Weasel’s. Draco extended a hand to touch his upper arm which he quickly snatched away.

 

   “What the actual hell Malfoy? You are being weird” Weasel stammered stepping away. He held his hands up and immediately avoid eye contact. For some reason, the Weasel hadn’t taken Draco’s teeth out. Instead he was taking Draco like a girl trying to flirt with him but he would rather just politely decline.

 

   “Oh come one, I wouldn’t have been so bad to you had I known you would turn out so good.” Draco said swaying forward slightly and tying his hands behind his back.

 

   “Get back Malfoy, I am not—just stay away.”

Draco stepped closer invading the other’s personal space. “Come on _Ron.”_ He whined playfully. 

 

   “What in the mother’s holy name is going on?” It was Damian’s voice. Draco turned around. Weasely quickly stepped away. Damian had an arm around Harry’s back in that protective and … controlling manner.

 

   He frowned. Damian, he could get as close to anyone he wanted to. Anyone really, Draco hated him just a day before and now, he would be lying if said so. And Potter, he trusted him a little too much. _A little too much for Draco’s liking._

 

   That made him aware of three things, one, he contributed in saving Harry Potter. Secondly, he tried seducing a cash-strapped blood traitor, and third, all he could feel, despite understanding full well what it meant, was indifference.

It was working. That unnamed, seemingly impractical method that for Draco had become the only principle of life. Draco had created it and it worked. He grinned widely, his eyes gleaming, slightly moist with the strangest mix of excitement and sorrow.

 

   “I was just talking to _Ron”_ Draco said, prolonging the short name. He looked straight at Potter, living up to Draco’s expectations, Potter’s face was that of a nine year old sneaking into his parents’ bedroom at a very wrong time.

 

Draco wanted to say it again, for mere joy of seeing that expression.

 

   “So you—you really did…” Damian broke into a laugh before being able to complete his sentence. Potter looked on, unable to say anything, his eyes glued open.

 

   “Yeah, while you were making up to Potter for snogging Hannah Abbot. I hope he is satisfied, you said he would be before you two left for his room.” Draco said cheerfully.

 

Now Damian’s face slowly turned to that comically horrorstruck one as comprehension dawned.

 

The day probably couldn’t be better.

 

Finally the Weasely spoke up. “Harry, I thought you and Ginny, and him, he was…I…and Malfoy…”

 

Damian sighed. “Look Weasely, for me and Harry it’s still a little early to speak about things , and we both know that Ginny is seeing Blaize so let’s not make it a very big deal.”

 

   “So then, you and Ginny are officially over mate?”

 

   “Uh ah…” Potter blurted. “Yeah I g-guess. I didn’t know about Blaize though.”

 

   “Oh, thought we would be family one day but…” When the weasel turned to Damian, the wistful tone abruptly changed. “But Him! him of all people?”

 

   “Something wrong with me?” Damian asked.

 

Weasely only scowled. “And Malfoy,  w-what’s with Malfoy?”

 

   “Well, he looks interested enough, not something I would ever go for but it’s up to you really, if you—”

 

   “Shut up” He snapped caustically and turned to Potter. “Mate, I just wanted to say sorry for not spending enough time with you lately. I won’t lie, I like it with Blaize, you know,  you were so consumed by the everything, and I was too, I was giving both of us some time before things were like before again.

 

I guess my timing couldn’t be worse though, we will speak at school but I really shouldn’t be here right now.”

 

He turned around.

 

   “Be a nice soulless ginger and don’t tell anything to Hannah will you?” Damian asked.

 

Weasely turned his neck, his eyes narrowing to slits. He left without another word. Draco flinched at the sharp sound of the door shutting. The Weasel hated Damian more than Draco apparently.

 

   “Great we are both out of girlfriends now. She was the only I had… for now.”

  

   “What … happened?”  Potter asked, so genuinely confused. He looked at Damian and then Draco. his mouth partially agape. Draco almost found it _cute_.

   

   “Damian wanted me to hold the Weasely back. His own words, I was suppose to get the Weasely to fuck me. That’s what I was doing.” Draco explained casually, never breaking eye contact with Potter.

 

He wouldn’t have known what to say but Damian spoke for him. “You fucking slut, you didn’t have to say anything about us.”

 

Draco shrugged. Potter’s shock now wore off, apathy took over. He looked at Draco amusedly and at Damian with that expectation and faith that Draco so hoped he would live up to. He didn’t know about Potter, but he himself certainly didn’t hate him anymore. He pitied him—if this was  pity.

 

   “Come on, let’s go upstairs and clean that artistic mess you made.” Damian said  clasping his shoulder.

 

They went upstairs, Draco uninvited as always. He wondered what an artistic mess could be as he followed the two upstairs.

 

 His imagination could not have ever provided him with what he saw.

 

Draco stopped, his emotions, his brain suddenly felt a rapid dysfunction as if the nerves had been yanked off. Everyone’s turn had come, to turn flabbergasted, now was Draco’s. The expression of pure shock felt like a ghost, possessing one person and then another. And it rushed inside Draco with such urgency, at once all over him and settled, static now but numbing every other emotion.

 

Before him, on a wall smudged with dark blood and a floor where it had leaked to form a thick red pool was Fenrir Greyback, naked like the blonde earlier, his face was yellow where scratches didn't show, his eyes open, frozen like they were purposefully made to. But there couldn't be a lot of use to it, he had to be dead through most of what happened, he had to, he couldn't be alive while... He chained to the wall, no, not chained exactly. The metal ropes hung from the ceiling, crossed his palm from the middle, going right through it, one of the links in the chain was _inside_ the hand and then it went back to the ceiling seeming to have burned the skin while it did. The skin on his hand was black on the edges of the chain, pale splotches showing through the dark rim that had formed around the chain. 

 

His thin blued lips had four such metal ropes, thinner and ending on the sides of his face. Each sliced through the corners of the werewolf’s mouth and pulled wide, shattering the face it to pull further. Inside it was hollow, _very thoroughly hollow._ The uvula and palates of his mouth, the empty gums, it was all prominent, the very texture and gleaming sheen of moisture was bare. Draco would probably find his tongue lying on the floor if he looked around. The teeth would be scattered too.

 

Next were his entrails, they were shoved inside his anus, all of them, uncoiled, cut to separation and then shoved. Spongy red pipes penetrating his orifice. Draco couldn’t tell whether they bled inside him or did his hole bled from being stretched beyond even the most promiscuous someone’s capability of bearing. 

 

Below that, lying separately, in a form of a thick red paste were his legs. Draco presumed legs because other body parts, even if ravaged monstrously, were still joint to the torso.

 

Potter had done a lot of it through magic, the metal was inserted and twisted in manners that wouldn’t be possible otherwise, but the bruises and injuries were done manually. In a most contorted perception, Draco could understand where the term ‘artistic’ came from, even if it was far from what he would use to describe _this_.

 

The damage was done very symmetrically, some scars seeming to be made in a controlled manner, gradual, the depth calculated, and some appearing random as if like earlier, Potter had started with composure than the diabolic ecstasy surfaced. Yet, it was all the same everywhere, the same retrained marks, the same gashes made in madness.

 

No wait,  not entirely same.

 

Draco squinted at the left arm of the huge corpse, at the end of his lower arm, the skin was removed entirely, a very bare layer of flesh was left exposed, some thin spikes poked out of it  but why ruin the _art_?

 

Coldness hit Draco at his core. The dark mark. With reluctance clawing and screeching at him, he looked back at his own, the one dangerously visible on his skin and then back at where it was suppose to be on the werewolf. Did Potter remember Draco’s mark while doing this?

 

   “I fucked his mouth.” Potter said jolting Draco out of his thoughts. “I don’t like teeth.”

 

   It took him a moment to process  the joke, still he didn’t find it funny. The visualization however, toothless Greyback, reduced to a housebroke puppy doing Potter’s nasty bidding, Draco swallowed, he had the mark too… _stop._  

 

   “Should’ve kept the tongue.” Damian remarked. It wasn’t like the reaction he had had earlier, giving Draco another ten reasons to be puzzled. Potter noticed it too.

 

   “You aren’t scared now.” He said.

 

   “I wasn’t scared earlier too. Not of this but of you turning on me.” He answered. “You don’t feel guilty now, do you?”

 

   “Guilty? No, I feel so much better, I don’t feel desperate and …incomplete like I did.”

 

   “Tom is happy, so are you but it’s good, just wait for a while and you won’t have to do this to be happy. You will have other reasons to be, hmm? Other good reasons.” Damian replied reassuringly placing his hands on Potter’s shoulders.

 

NO, THIS IS NOT GOOD, THIS IS NOT, IT CAN’T BE. Draco wants to scream at them, at Damian for looking like a messiah and doing the exact utter opposite of what he was supposed to and at Potter for… Draco’s shoulder’s lowered, he didn’t realize that he had tensed them in his silent protest. Potter was smiling, thin lips curved into a naïve guiltless smile, the green eyes so hopeful, he felt more misplaced in this little hell than Draco or Damian, making it impossible to believe that it was created _for_ him.

 

He looked back at Damian, silently pleading with his eyes to not be what Draco was so skeptical about. Potter _has_ been through a lot, more can’t be good, it can’t! Draco couldn’t explain the protectiveness but he didn’t fight it, his rule was against it.

 

Damian slid his wand out of the pocket of his pants and hovered a pattern with it that seemed like writing in the air with curvy alphabets. The body melted, dissolving into a blend of flesh, blood and bone that felt like dough and then faded, leaving the chains dangling and all the metal spikes, needles and other sharp objects on the floor. With a quicker and simpler wand movement, he made the levitate back to the shelves.

 

He had bought packets of these in a haste and with Draco uninterested in them as he looked at the bigger machinery. Now, his opinion on these, on everything here, intensified. Everything scared him with it;;s functions, with the probability of _him_ ever ending up getting used on him. And his father, oh how they would feel on him, Draco couldn’t like the thought or hate it, he simply abandoned the idea.

 

Yet, all his fright and dislike was addressed  to the objects, the ones that could easily have other completely healthy uses was not Potter the one using them, who could be the using them on him. Despite having seen it happen once, despite what a vile monster Potter could be, all Draco could remember was the misery it all put him in. He simply couldn’t bring himself to hold him responsible.

 

   “I think I should go now, I need to see what that that redheaded weasel did to my reputation.”

 

   “He is my friend.” Potter said somewhat timidly, not wanting to disagree.

 

   “Well then he better fucking act it so he doesn’t have to feel bad about me doing it in his place.” Damian said so cholerically, once again, making Draco want to admonish him.

 

He was talking to Potter, it wasn’t his fault!

 

Potter looked down, a hint of guilt  on his face. Ugh. Only if Draco's intervention was acceptable enough.

 

   “Look at me.” Damian said, his face softened. “Try not to feel bad about this okay, about Greyback. You don’t have to worry, things _will_ be okay.”

 

Potter nodded. Damian leaned close and lightly pushed Potter’s head over his shoulder, a hand pressing against his back to comfort him. Once again, Potter was all affection. Damian pulled back and headed for the stairs nudging at Draco’s wrist on his way and letting go when Draco understood the instruction to follow.

 

   “I should really hex the fuck out of you Draco, being a pureblood should have taught to you some decency.”

 

   “It didn’t teach you a lot.”

 

   “Because I wasn’t stupid like you, that’s why, but don’t ever say anything about me and Harry again.”

 

   “You don’t want there to be anything between you two?”

 

Damian stopped and looked him dead in the eye. “Because I don’t want to have to pretend like that in school. It physically hurts to act now, I don’t want to do more of it.”

 

   “Are you pretending when you tell him that things will be fine?”

 

   “Huh.” Damian smirked, another out of place reaction and Draco knew he had an answer. “Remember when I warned you  to not hurt him?  I know you want to warn me too, to not damage him further, he looks endangered when I am around him, Isn’t it? You of all people should understand this feeling.”

 

   “I still don’t trust you”

 

   “As if I do.” Damian retorted, strangely pained. He walked ahead of Draco, which he suspected was in attempt to hide his emotions. “Things were simple during the war, no? You and your people were the bad guys, Harry was the heroic and pure one and now the likes of us need to save him and he, you can’t call him a monster, you can’t call him innocent.

 

   Now things are hard.  But us bad guys can’t have the same kind of trust in each other as him and his friends did when they had something to save. ‘He’ makes us question our category and ‘we’ make each other protest again it.

Where do you think is this going Draco?”

 

   “I don’t know.” Draco said, his voice cracking. “But you have more control over it, I can’t trust you, I couldn’t trust the Dark lord and my father and the death eaters but you are not the dark lord, you aren’t a death eater either so just please … please don’t …”

 

Damian waited, then turned around and walked back to Draco taking his jaw in an elegant hand, griping firmly but not hurting. He looked him in the eye, dark sapphire blue piercing into delicate silver. “He won’t get hurt.” he said determined, his voice full of promise, lying simply too immoral for it.

 

   Draco inhaled, dilemma dying inside him, resisting, gradual.   He nodded.

 

   “And you Draco?”

 

   “What?’

 

   “You looked at the corpse and what Harry did to the mark, I saw you.”

 

   “I don’t understand, I really don’t. I should be scared, I should want to run. I feel like none of it.”

 

   “That won’t ease the pain when it comes to it.”

 

   “Can it? You don’t have to tell me that things will be fine.”

 

   Damian squeezed his eyes shut. “Hmm” Then he headed for the door . “Take care of him Draco.” He said standing before the exit. “You might do it better than me”

 

  He was gone, leaving Draco ambivalent more than ever about whether or not he hated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think about this because even the smallest amount encouragement can help a lot.  
> Thank for reading!


	17. Death of  A Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco learns the more fun parts of begging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah i am not exactly gone yet. Here is almost the start of all the filth i tagged this fic for. (Yeah it sucks, so do i, deal with with.
> 
> Plus I would take a long break again because...exams of course, those fuckers sum up my life. And I am sadist and this is how I like my Draco so...yeah.

   “What were you talking about?” Potter asked descending from the stairs, his head bowed contemplatively.

   “Not a burden you really bear Potter, at least you didn’t once.”

   “Oh Malfoy, if you think you are damn too bad for me to understand absolutely anything about you, Just think of Greyback again.”

   “Potter come on, you literally have someone else inside of you doing it all. It’s not you.”

   “That someone else, Malfoy, doesn’t do all of it _._ I didn’t go to sleep inside myself when I tortured Greyback or that woman. I was right there letting myself do it, letting him do it.”

Potter walked closer and took Draco by the shoulders forcing the other to look him in the eye, as if he wasn’t doing so before.

   “I see his face clearer Malfoy, clearer every day.” He whispered, with a strange expression. He did really seemed to _look at_ _him_ and was pressing Draco to do it too,  was confused why he couldn’t, and scared that he himself could. He leaned forward to speak in Draco’s ear. “And as he does, he looks more like me, so much like me.”

No! Draco should have been saying. That isn’t you Potter, take control of yourself, don’t let it win over you.

But he said none of it. He seemed to understand the uselessness of the words.

   “Potter, how does he look?” He asked instead, knowing what to say yet understanding very little of it all.

Potter smiled, never quite unhanding Draco. “Like this. Happy. Content. And like someone whose purpose a war can’t take away. Look at me Malfoy. I don’t need the war to make me someone, innocent people shouldn’t be dying for me to matter.

I didn’t feel him when Fenrir died, that burden Malfoy, is gone.”

   “If you really believe that the burdens are gone, you don’t have to worry anymore but you are not human without burdens Potter.”

Potter chuckled and leaned forward letting his nose bridge touch the side of Draco’s face.  Draco felt cold finger raise the hem of shirt and slide inside. He grazed the hint of the v line on Draco’s stomach. The pad of his fingers ghosting above his hip.

   “Potter?” Draco breathed.

   “Am I human Malfoy, when I am all but light in the darkness, when I only want the good of people so much that I would sacrifice my life for that. Was that all just normal and ‘human’?”

    Why wasn’t Draco freaking out, running away, doing anything that wasn’t leaning into Potter’s neck or needing to go back to that god awful room.  Where was his ability to reject himself, where were all those emotions he should have been feeling right now?

   “I am in control Malfoy” Potter said. “You think _he_ destroyed the mark? Why would he want to do it, huh? _I_ did it because _I_ wanted to. I wanted to hurt him because I hated him not because Tom wanted to hurt someone.”

Potter moved behind Draco and pressed his chest against his back. His hand snaked upward, tracing the muscles on his torso. Draco couldn’t explain any of what he was feeling, he knew his breathing was faint, that some part of his brain was going numb, he felt a kind of a paralysis and a mist of intoxication blurring all his senses. He was leaning back at Potter, shifting his  weight onto the broader form.

Potter’s hand formed delicate patterns over his chest, he exhaled on Draco’s neck, so  soft in his mannerisms, so unlike how Draco had always imagined him. He had always fantasized about Potter doing it out of malice, as a form of revenge  and the way revenge should be, hateful, crude, and this was none of it, this was something else.

Something better.

The thought of savoring it had not occurred to him yet and before it could, the hand came to an abrupt stop. Potter stopped breathing. They were close enough for Draco to feel it. At once, the blissful disappearance of knowingness was gone, he was aware –and befuddled.

He jerked his neck to look at Potter who himself jolted backward. His eyes sprung open. He looked like he had woken up to find himself in that position. His eyes shot at Draco’s trouser and his utterly obvious arousal.

   “Potter, you were—” Draco rushed to explain but Potter quickly shifted his gaze.

He darted upstairs. A door snapped and a lock clicked, loud enough to be heard in the quiet place and then everything fell silent.

Draco stood there looking up at the stairs and not understanding any of the fresh images in his mind. He probably spent half a minute simply staring like that. By the time any sense returned to him, his neck had a slight strain.

Potter was in one of his crazy moods, then suddenly, he was not. He made advances at Draco when he was in that not-really-himself phase but he caught himself—simple enough.

—Draco screwed up—he had no excuse what so ever to have played along what Potter was doing, he did it on his own will and _liked it._ After having over-felt all his emotions, they seemed to leave them, like a puncture inside his brain though which every thought, emotion, images, just felt.

   He merely glimpsed at them and then things faded taking all affect along until he was left simply to nothing.

He wanted Harry Potter.

This is how he would have reacted had Potter ever tried to come close to him. He wanted this and denial was no longer part of him. So he couldn’t escape it. He wanted to deny, give himself an excuse , justify his actions how he would justify thinking of Harry Potter with his cock in his hand.

Where was that? That need to run from the truth?

Perhaps there was no place to run to anymore.

Narcissa Malfoy was dead. Lucius Malfoy was dead more or less, the Malfoy Mansion no longer existed and pureblood society was no more—at least no more where he belonged.—and he was, to his core, to that very point where denials and excuses were inefficient, aware of this.

So what was wrong with telling Harry Potter that Draco always dreamt of provoking him enough that he would want revenge, that this revenge would be physical, that thinking wishfully made it sexual.

What would happen at all? Potter would be disgusted on the very least, think lowly of him, treat him like trash. What would change really?

Calmness settled over him, genuine calmness, that he felt more than he was trying to convince himself of.  He went to Potter’s room and knocked on the door, not hesitant for even once because he _knew._

   “Potter?” He said and knocked again. “Potter listen to me , I am coming in.”

He did not reply. More because he didn’t want to talk to Draco and not out of acceptance of his entry.  Draco did as he had announced and pulled the door fully ajar to find Potter hugging his knees and sitting besides the bed than on it. 

It was after Draco came inside that Potter shifted his gaze from the settee in front of him. Like he had not heard Draco. 

   “Stay away Malfoy, don’t come any closer.” Potter warned standing up raising his palm in defense.

   “Potter whatever happened downstairs, you weren’t in control of it, you…” Draco started in a consoling tone than an explanatory one.

   “That is where you are wrong Malfoy, I was entirely in control. In that moment it just felt right what I was doing, I just couldn’t take the way-the way I should really have been taking it.”

   “Maybe it was then, maybe it was what you really wanted but couldn’t deny it to yourself in that moment. I know that I did.” He confessed looking down, observing if his daring move would cause any alarm, revive him.  No.

   “What the hell Malfoy, you?...you know what I was going to do? I was going to hurt you, I am certain of it because…I know it Malfoy and you would only be trying to convince yourself for your own safety if you told me otherwise.”  Potter snapped.

   “I am not telling you that Potter.  And you know because you still want to. You want to hurt me.”

   “No No No Malfoy, you can’t-ugh” The denial, still there, so intact. Damian said it would go away with time and things would worsen but for now, they could not look bad.

Not when he knew.

   “Potter, why run from it huh?” He asked softly, approaching him. “Damian told you not to compress it or it will grow stronger, that is exactly what you are doing right now. You will need it later, and it will feel right then, but for any kind of discipline it would be too late then.”

   “You know what you are saying Malfoy? If I just say, fine I want to hurt you and I fucking do, then what? You know what that would mean for you?”

   “What did you do when you first accepted that you wanted to play out your fantasies of hurting people?”

   “I did. I brought them home and did it.” He said, eyes wide. “What are you trying to say Malfoy?”

   “And Damian said that if you didn’t do it, you would quickly run out of patience, that then you will do it indiscriminately and without that one rule against killing that you use for the regular criminals, that it is inevitable.”

   “I won’t do it to you Malfoy and how can you possibly try to convince me of it, you should be running away and-and…”

Draco smiled. “I don’t understand that either. Just know that I have my needs, _fantasies,_ like you do, twisted ones. Only you have that demon inside your head to explain them and I don’t. But I am not looking for them anymore, I don’t need them now and that is my freedom. And that the ultimate freedom anyone can ever have, no more needing to reason, Potter.

 But you don’t have it so I will give you a reason. Forget what I want and decide, would you rather do awful things to me or other innocent people who you will out of running out of patience, in either case, you will get to me, that is inevitable, so like you did with the criminals, just have me now and save others.

That is how you reason with yourself right, telling yourself in your more saner phases that you are doing it for the greater good? In the end you know you are just fulfilling your need and this ‘greater good’ is just a solid approval?”

Potter backed down, sitting on his side-table. He was weighing the excuse to see if it was satisfactory, or maybe even actually calculating the danger of not listening to Draco. Either way, Draco had driven Potter to think.

 Draco moved forth and moved next to Potter on the bed, this time precautious if the other was fine with it.

“As for me, perhaps  I have wanted this since the very day I met you.  I could never explain it to myself, especially once we declared each other as rivals but I wanted you to-I wanted that anger, whatever it could get you to do. I got so thrilled to think about it, that you would finally one day get fed up and do something, maybe that’s why I always winded you up, to get a rise out of you.

During the war, things were different, I didn’t want you catching me while I questioned my purpose or anger you to fight me back that day in the train, I really hated you then, for my father ending up in Azkaban, for your belief in what you were doing, for you being that light side in the fairytales that won every time.

But other than the war, I have had this in me, this need to get controlled, maybe even hated. I was ashamed of it, like I was of being gay but it always got the better of me, I wanted someone doing it to me while still trying to be the leader I was expected to be. And  I  have felt like this since that day at Madam  Malkin’s.

Anyone who I thought could fit as this ‘controller’ I felt like befriending him. Like Blaize, Marcus Flint, even Viktor Krum, but you were who I wanted in the end Potter, you didn’t even feel like someone who would want to treat someone like that and I still wanted you. I can’t explain it as I said but that’s how it is.

I was just this child once who wanted to impress you, have you tell me to do things and dutifully obey them. Then I was a teenager who wanted more, I wanted you hurting me, I wanted you angry and taking it out on me. I wanted you to fuck me and make it painful. All the while, being your enemy and constantly trying to not want it.

 I couldn’t, not in my wildest dreams, imagine ever telling you this. But then I didn’t imagine any of this to ever happen in first place.  I have lost so much Potter, I can say I have lost everything.  It can’t possibly do any harm if I _get_ something now.”

Draco looked up at Potter for the first time after speaking.

***

Harry watched Malfoy’s chest rise and fall as he forced air into his lungs. He was not comfortable getting stared at, he was not comfortable at all after what he had revealed. Harry could see his dilemma, he was not sure if he should have spoken and now that he had, he didn’t know whether to wait for Harry to say it or simply just pack up and leave.

Yet, with little concern for what Malfoy felt, Harry looked him in the face, into those nervous grey eyes. The more he looked he felt like he was being pleaded, soundlessly begged to just accept the proposal and do as he pleased.

As he pleased

Did Malfoy even know what that could mean, did he understand what he was asking?

Harry looked harder, trying to communicate these questions without voicing them but the same demand was being made. His hands were tightened into fists, thumbs brushing over the pale knuckles, he was biting on the insides of his mouth seeming to break into a run any moment now.

But Harry knew he was not going to do that. He knew that Malfoy so desperately wanted what he was asking for and that, despise his fear, despite some remaining rationality still wanting him to take back his words or just _run_ , he was standing there, asking someone cruel and uncompassionate like Harry to _do as he pleased_.

   “You have seen it Malfoy, you know how it goes, how it ends, did you even consider that before waltzing in like you have everything thought out and planned?” He asked, angry and accusatory. Maybe, with the assurance that Malfoy was the one who wanted it, it was would be easier on his own consciousness.

   “I know that Potter, I know what I want and I never been so sure about anything before. For once, just believe me and get on with it. I am not doing this for you. What motive do I have for doing anything at all, what I do now has one reason behind it and it is that I want to do it.

And this is what I want, whatever kept me from it is gone, whatever I had to preserve is gone and if I can get something now, why do you think would I want to step back?” Malfoy snapped, his voice so dark, Harry was confused about the power dynamic for a moment.

Harry concentrated on his face again, there wasn’t any fear. No, what Harry had seen wasn’t fright in the first place.  He was broken, utterly broken and accepting of that. Still, Harry’s face hardened once more and Malfoy sobbed dryly, once again, helpless.

Harry couldn’t understand how vulnerability and determination could be present at the same time, neither trying to overtake one another. How had Malfoy managed to not deny either.

  Harry would have wanted him to be the rich scumbag he was while he did it, there would be such satisfaction to it. But Malfoy was not that, in all honestly, he was above Harry’s understanding now and it frustrated him.

Malfoy seemed like he knew, like Harry was the shallow one with a materialistic need.

‘This wasn’t about Malfoy.’ Harry reminded himself. It didn’t matter what Malfoy was, it didn’t matter what he wanted, it was about him. He would have taken the scrawny git and plucked every tooth out of his snobby little mouth without his needing his approval.

Only Harry’s motive mattered, only his need was to be fulfilled by it.

it?

   “Malfoy?” He said colder than he had ever been with him. “Can you name what ‘it’ is you want? I need to make sure you are not under the impression that I am going to cuff you up and tickle your feet.” 

   Malfoy faltered for a moment but then looked him in the eye and spoke like he was whimpering, _strongly, firmly, whimpering._ “I want you controlling me, the way I have been my entire life, instead of doing things that I have no say in, I want to do something that I truly believe in,  that I truly want to do. You want to beat me, you can do it as hard as you want, you can cut me, whip me anything and you can bend me over and fuck me absolutely whenever you want, you don’t even have to prepare me or care about my pleasure and I will drop on my knees the moment you ask me too and suck your cock like a hungry little slut. I will be your bitch, your sex slave, anything you want me to be. I want to belong to you Potter, I want you to be my god.”

Draco breathed hard, nervous excitement pooled in his stomach. It didn’t feel real now, his very life felt like a dream, like one of his fantasies where things like this were possible. He was in the amusement park of his own brain where nothing needed a sequence, proportion, any of the things that mattered in the real world.

And Draco Malfoy was dead the moment he had made a decision that day. He was now that person who had always been inside of the unreal being name Malfoy. He was free.

Potter snorted looking sideways and seeming to enjoy a personal joke, shoving Draco’s train of thoughts off the track and every imagery with it. Draco turned all his attention to him. “To think that my enemy actually just dreamt of getting mauled by me. Who knew, underneath the arrogant git was just an eager whore.  I could have fucked some information out  of you had I known during the war.”

Then his eyes met Draco’s.

   “Take off your clothes Malfoy”


End file.
